Nishi-Shinjuku slow pulse sunrise pouring late spring light into the canyons, revealing lines of suits (Mr. Dandy) forming ghostpack around Macrossnalds hamburger stands. Skyscraper world here powered by cigarettes and impeccably marketed coffee products. Bought and sold, but to whom?
From the 109th floor of the Outa Hotel we can clearly see the top of the Royal Host building below; a monster sized circular plug that the Government of Darkness, invisible and all around us, sips collective instant life-force from. Maybe that’s why I, Pedro “Impitsu” Edogawa, can barely get the strength to pull myself out of bed. Instead, I’m crumpled up on my back staring at Yuka Yuka’s latest media endeavor: a morning show called “The Honey Drip.”
She is teeth and clavicles, sitting prim in a teal-colored blazer behind a glass table. Yuka tries her best to read off the headlines but is continually plagued by tiny toy bees that carry commercial bumpers with them, depositing them into her hair. Yuka is the not the host, she is the hive: an apiary for the move to privatize ESPACE.
Even I get sick of the acronyms sometimes, but they make up most of what I’m to do while I’m here. And you have to wonder, why would ESPY would see fit to deposit me here at the epicenter of G.O.D.?
Oh yeah...one question: were ESPY or CounterESPY involved in Stanley Kubrick's death? Enquiring minds want to know!
Posted by: Ms. Geek | February 21, 2007 at 07:49 PM
I happen to think it was the Thule Society, with backing from the Hearst Family.
Posted by: Steve Harrison | February 21, 2007 at 08:02 PM
The conspiracy that SLAYS together, stays together.
Posted by: Carl Horn | February 22, 2007 at 10:52 AM