Onto-cultural splicing

An intelligence on a mountain, beside a camp fire

Ha ha, yes, I guess you could say it’s like Jurassic Park, only for our intelligences to grasp human culture. We call this area the colonial Mise-en-scène, for acceleration purposes we’ve done a fair bit of onto-cultural splicing, here Celine, Kerouac and Pound, the Shits as we call them.

Hozomeen, Hozomeen, most beautiful mountain I ever seen, like a tiger sometimes with stripes, sunwashed rills and shadow crags wriggling lines in the Bright Daylight, and then went down the ship vertical furrows and bumps and Boo! crevasses, boom, sheer magnificent Prudential mountain, it so happened that the war was creeping up on us without our knowing it

Here we are, down at the camp, we can guess something bad is about to happen, all the clues are there, a beautiful day, a tent, young hopes, perfect teeth, call me cynical, but it has to go wrong. Ah, here comes the scary music. listen everyone. Don’t be scared it’s only a story. Rich humans loved to be horrified, while the poor ones lived with horror. I know, it just doesn’t make any sense, right?

A winter campsite scene, perfect in every way

Published by Rejected Short Stories

"Now I have restored some of my words that I want to tell people what it feels like to go through such an experience- the contents right flushed out of your brain. What it's like a whole load of other people's stuff pumped into it. Most of what they put in my mind was bank account numbers and bioinformatics data flows rearrange forever. A swirl of unstable figures, flows through me in all directions, such as rats and fleas self-replicating and voracious attacks of my brain, only animals was not, it was language."

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