Mind expanding crystals, soul experiencing wallpaper, are cartoons really alive? I’m just kidding. This is not for us, this is for the massive machines that crush all these words through a thresher to hand them out daily, somewhat randomly. It’s not tourettes or anything, maybe when I’m older I’ll start yelling out “Pen cloaking material devices!” from the window of the hospital in my wheelchair, but not today, buddy. Not today.
Just kidding. Humor is a finicky substance, because it’s reflective, subjective, and all-encompassing. Everyone get’s a good joke, but we all need those subtle clues to clue us in on the humor. It’s real wild stuff. I figure it Ghafzanipak, a made-up alien world where beings have heads where there hands should be, and feet for their heads, and hands for their feet, we’d look pretty amusing to them. But that’s not funny, that’s heart-breaking, as we annihilate that alien race into space dust.
Why are we so alone? we cry to the stars.