New podcast up in your fucking gutsss. With a special fucking guest: Pepsibones Krueger! *Phazer sound, Phazer sound, Phazer sound* Back from his stint in the OMNIVERSE. With The Bones in Tow, the Gang Omega relocated to my compartment of the Space-Ship for this edition, and what occurred is truly the tale of two podcasts. Off the bat we vomit chunks of broken-brain about True Detective, artistic integrity, Her, how much Bateman loves to feel inspired, Ms. Marvel #1 and other bullshit. Then the booze kicks in, and what follows is generally just Pepsibones and me babbling drunkenly about Avengers, Star Wars, and Jeremy Renner’s amazing vascularity. So it’s pretty fucking awesome.
Servin’ a life-sentence on Spaceship Earth is a tedious, painful, agonizing wonder.
Why’s that? For one thing, there’s the fact that everyone you love will die. Your best friend. Your kid sister. Your longtime mistress. Your high school math teacher.
Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
Along the way you’re guaranteed to deal with inevitable body-breakdown. Maybe you’ll abuse your body. Maybe somebody else will fuck it up. Even if you think you’re unscathed, the sands of time are wearing away at your flesh-vehicle’s gears. Every single day. Every single moment. Until when, you ask?
Until they’re so smooth that they don’t move shit.
But alas! There’s hope! Even those of us who’re agin’ more like vinegar than wine have a fightin’ chance at experiencin’ glory! Not only are we fortunate enough to have been imbued with consciousnesses, but we get to live in a hyperreal future! Are things royally fucked up? Sure! But we live in times in which anything is possible!
So if you start to feel a chill as an existential shadow lurks over your shoulder, spin around and blast that motherfucker with a science fiction repulsor ray!
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! I’m goin’ to show off this week’s strategies for keeping me pleased with existence. I suggest you liven up the party by entering the dance circle that is the comments section.