Friday, January 8, 2010

X-B Net 5000

Welcome to XBNet 5000! Extended Brain Networks are sweeping the nation! The neural neighborhood has exploded onto the scene, and the information flow is going torrential!! Or, maybe it's not information, per se, we try to screen the porn and some of our members are just plain vacuous, but reach out and touch a 1 or a zero and get in the game! Seriously, the Greeks had it right--hang out in the forum and debate, fulminate, maybe masturbate and disseminate for fun and prizes. Even the wine dark sea has a special offer (this week only). I don't need to know anything really--just send a text or a tweet, and some lonely heart will fill in the particulars, maybe come up with a juicy vacation spot, just you and a tete a tete amid the marshmallows and lousy sugary chocolate--not the good stuff the 85% cacao, but don't get off quite yet, the endorphins are spankin' the monkey, and you too could find love right here on line! All we really want is to to tap the complete ever expanding universe of the cunning linguistic allure of life on the run, here an insight, there an allusion, everywhere a done-in conundrum, old MacDonald had a DNA sample of a black bear lickin' the slop bucket tryin' to snare hair off a black bear's ass while three little skinny-dippers gave a glimpse of the beard of love to one backwoods degenerate--things went downhill from there, why the crowd was literally crying for more Parks Sausages, PLEASE, and the sun sank slowly into the whinny of a screech owl, raising the short hairs on the back of somebody's neck, now that the light was failing, and the temperature dropping, and the prospect of bivouac on a three foot ledge above a peregrine falcon nest gave little succor to the fading chance of hots and a cot. It can get pretty cold in Montana. I think I'll head for home.

1 comment:

  1. and E(APOE) was not just a poet in Baltimore but a gene on chromosome 19 that can influence the age of AD. The poet who by his own admission proudly stated he became insane with horrible intervals of sanity...inspired far too many to try the same. It doesn't get as cold as it used to in Montana. For some strange reason when you wrote the "beard of love" above I thought of Mitch Miller. The trance of days, the film of green and blue, the last bit of love in us the last bit of light as we are pounded through all those other shaped holes.