The Shivering Truth "Ogled Inklings"

notes:

* last time: Bjork's "All Is Full of Love" music video is masturbation taken to the highest artistic level

* last time: it seems like a giant hot dog would be cool...but really it turns out it isn't...

* hey now, don't you go making fun of poetic goths, saw that preview WAY too much this week.

* but it's not inklings, it's clay (and maybe highstrung string and copper wire and hay stuffed in there in the puppets and stuff)

*ohhhhhhhhhhhhh okay NOW i get it, Vernon is imitating the Rod Serling Twilight Zone voice when he narrates. and now that i think back, it was kinda how the Xavier voice was. so this show is basically if Robot Chicken and Xavier: Renegade Angel had a baby. a goofy-looking baby who drank the wrong milk (coyote milk).

* it was a dry heat...the kind where cactus soda makes itself...there was only enough money for ONE prison bars...cos the government had slashed funding to rehabilitation programs and guard pensions...the government wanted a police state where EVERY SINGLE CITIZEN was incarcerated...then there'd be nothing to do but pave the one road to the McDonald's...

* cop 1: see that tumbleweed over there?
cop 2: that's in your head...
cop 1: see that horned cattle skeleton head over there?
cop 2: that's YOUR head, you're dead. and apparently you were Satan this whole time.
cop 1: but i'm from Bone China.

* prisoners: truth is, there isn't much to do in prison. well nothing much to do in the desert. the Breaking Bad winnebago left long ago, Bryan Cranston is back doing comedy, and we can't even do the Carlton Fortnite dance anymore to keep cool. this is the North Korean dream, fear of being jailed so always in march formation. even when there is no prison.
cop 2: but we're all in our own prison, of the mind. and the political affiliation. and the skin color. and the social status. and the how much money you make if you're a public official.
prisoners: can we at least make this interesting? let's play Tic Tac Toe on the prison grate.
cop 1: i'll trade you my water for your water.

* man in bed: i ogled her breasts. sorry but i'm a man, what do you expect?
nurse: toxic masculinity…
man: is it toxic...or is it just masculinity? nobody knows what it means to be a man anymore in this society.
nurse: i'll fetch you your MEL Magazine shortly. can i get you anything?
man: goggles to keep my eyes open...

* man: what? i'm into gilfs.

* nurse: you are the cause of all the hatred and division and scapegoating in the world. who are you?
man: i am Russian Bot. i don't get it, i'm in bed but i don't feel sexy. hey can you splash my face with water as soon as i start to nod off? can i ogle your breasts?
nurse: thank you, that's already the compliment. you need to go outside and smell the fresh fields.
man: but there is no outside, there is only the inside of one's mind. what do i have, nurse?
nurse: constadeath…...that will be explained next episode...
man: nurse why am i so ugly?
nurse: cos you're human.
man: why do you have the face of a Kraken?
nurse: here it's known as the standard nonthreatening metrosexual monoculture face.
man: homoculture? no homo, no bueno. you mean like monoculturalism? THAT is what destroyed the world, not me. no more EuroCups!
nurse: no like monoculture farm fields...that you should be smelling.

* don't look too hard at the abyss, the abyss will stare back at you...with goth raccoon eyes...

* soldier: what's your story, kid?
goth poet: as all kids, abused by the ones who loved me the most...
soldier: the government professes its love for you. the government needs your poetry to stop the end of civilization.
goth poet: but isn't this what we're all aiming for? so there will be no more suffering, no more pain to put on a wax vinyl record. nirvana. not the band.
soldier: i'm only following orders. i don't believe in global warming, poetry is just a waste of paper and natural resources. we fight wars over poetry.
goth poet: i wish i lived in the 17th century. sure the pompadour wigs and everything, but back then, poetry was like what Harry Potter is today. the first sex scene in a book was written by the Bronte Sisters using coded words. like "tree" for "anal". look, i'm just doing this to make enough poem money to buy new black Chuck Taylors, kay?

* PLEASE, the voice of the goth poet MUST be Johnny Weir for it to be perfect.

* soldier: the power of words...
goth poet: unfortunately most of our fellow countrymen don't know how to read.
soldier: hey you started LiveJournal, right?
goth poet: there is no reality. no reality as such, it is simply all in your head, if you create a reality of your own, that is your world, that is how God works. and by God i mean Trent. Dilfer.
soldier: Peace is War. can i use your book as campfire fuel? i've suddenly gotten very cold inside my inside.
goth poet: sure, now you've got it! my loyal pet who'll never leave me is the dude from Skinny Puppy and i'm wearing pale makeup to show it's not a male or female thing, it's a human gaze.
soldier: so you're asexual, which is very boring dramatically.
goth poet: well Nymphomaniac was pretty good till the ending.
soldier: i played with GI Joe toy soldiers as a boy. but i put dresses on them. so what's that make me?
goth poet: see the Earth? it's two giant tits crashing into each other like environmentally-depleted waves. smushing together like an oat PB&J sandwich oath. i can say that cos i'm asexual, not on the spectrum. it's the counter to that Tool video where you saw the Earth's eye at the end looking, this is what the Earth was looking at. two polar opposites. the two poles of the Earth's tits.
soldier: are all men tools?
goth poet: sure, look at us, our penises are giant keys...