Welcome to the Cascade of Nonsense. The white noise that keeps us complacent, ’cause otherwise we might be getting jittery. Someday you’ll die, someday we’ll exhaust this rotting Blue Marble, someday the sun will smirk before burning us up anyways. It’s all dumb and pointless and so we’re tasked with kicking it absurdity. Finding our own meaning, demanding our own purpose, but really probably just manufacturing our own cultural opiates to keep us numb to these nonsensical factoids of the world.
This is Monday Morning Commute. What composes your armature of pointlessness? How are you surviving this week? Hit me.
…I can relate, man. Or how about fifteen slices of pizza on a Friday night? Or two pounds of Laffy Taffy while refreshing Tumblr for nine hours on a Saturday evening? None happened this previous weekend, all of happened at one point in my life. This isn’t about shaming, though. It’s about coming together as a bunch of flesh-sacks trying to make it on this Blue Marble. This isn’t about wallowing. It’s about embracing the absurdity, the rot, the excess, the loneliness, the glee, the victory, the defeat.
This is Monday Morning Commute.
Welcome, friends. Welcome to the Space-Ship Omega’s weekly column, Monday Morning Commute. Within these walls, I, the captain, and you all will share the various arts and farts that we’re interested in during a given week. The foci are generally said arts (and poots!) that are upcoming, but feel free to share past-dalliances that are on your dome-piece as well.
Time is of the something!
Titty fuck a goose! Goddamn Watch Dogs. Goddamn UbiSoft. The game I was sweating in a sensual coupling with my launch day PS4 has been delayed. What’s next? What’s next!
How quickly can I infiltrate the ranks of GameStop? I must walk among them, showing prowess at peddling bullshit warranties and slamming pre-orders down customers’ throats. For if I can ascend to manager by November 15, I will get myself a free PS4.