♫Searchin... I been searching everywaieiaeeaee♫ for something materially meaningful to talk about, inasmuch as this is Petri Dish and... under the microscope lens, in the Petri Dish, I observe the mucoid slithers of an alien life form of no discernible origin. It could have come from anywhere... from under the broken sink in an abandoned trailer, in a post Katrina wasteland, where bad dreams go to die but can't even manage mortality, so they keep twitching, like a dead frog in a high school lab does, when an electric current hits it. It doesn't really have life so... that does make it hard to kill.
Where did that just come from? It came from a brief foray into the jibber jabber about upcoming Super Bowl commercials. We'll be getting dueling, billionaire, presidential candidates, a Whitman's sampler of sexual degenerates, various grades of celebrities, hawking all sorts of products, composed of mucoid slithers being poked with stun guns. There is a vague sense of dis-ease that the game could turn into a Kobe... Las Vegas style tearjerker, with the attendant apprehension that someone will say something about the Kansas City fan's tomahawk celebrations. What it all is... is a subliminal commercial for upcoming forced culture change, where the mucoid slithers do a runway fashion walk, in gender neutral condom ensembles, while gray aliens (with Billy Ray Cyrus) sing Old Town Road.
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