The boat that Karen sailed to Antarctica is feared to have sunk off the coast of the frozen
continent, as it is no longer beaming it's GPS coordinates to PAJ's
resident cartography expert and Karen-husband Ovaltine
Goose-Shredder. “Karen probably isn't dead... again,”
Goose-Shredder said at a press conference early Thursday, shoving his
optimistic face into the reality that it's more likely she is dead
again. “She's probably just stranded on Antarctica with a horde of
destructive biometric robocops. In fact, they probably just destroyed
the GPS transmitter because it's electronic and that's what they do.
The boat and Karen are probably fine, right? Right?” Despite his
theories that Karen is fine, Goose-Shredder is most definitely
worried about her fate, as one doesn't usually call a press
conference to ask desperate sounding questions to the assembled
journalists.
Agreeing that Goose-Shredder used the
word 'probably' far too many times in his opening statement for any
of it to be accurate, the assembled journalists began peppering the
mad scientist with questions as to how quickly his wife 'probably'
died on the wasteland continent. With a liberal use of air quotes to
put some metaphorical distance between the question and insinuating
Karen was dead, Goose-Shredder was asked if Karen “falling into the
ocean and succumbing to exposure” would be more or less horrific
given that much of Karen's body is not standard human body parts, but
rather is mostly fixtures designed to mimic bodily processes.
Goose-Shredder answered the question with an anguished cry and a few
tears, but stuck to the mic like a true professional. Asked if the
electronics implanted in Karen's body to bring her back from the dead
would lead to the biometric robocops killing her in a quick and
painless manner, or if the placement of the electronics would mean a
more graphic and prolonged 'Black Knight' style death, Goose-Shredder
was accidentally given hope. “No, actually she is.. she's all
analog.” he said. Goose-Shredder explained that he used machined
parts and analog processes to give the procedure a better chance of
working. “I didn't want [Karen] dieing because of a software
glitch, and I wanted to know that the parts I reanimated her with
were of the highest possible quality, so I made them all myself and
got them to function like simple machines.” The realization snapped
Goose-Shredder out of his grief and gave him the presence of mind to
end the torturous press conference. Saying he was leaving because the
assembled journalists were “a bunch of dicks for being assholes,”
Goose-Shredder exited the room and pulled the fire alarm, setting off
the building's sprinkler system and ruining thousands of dollars in
camera and recording equipment.
Across London, in the alley behind
Jack's, the Preacher Firestone is into his 18th month of rattling off
a hellfire sermon in support of “joining the All that is Google.”
Experts estimate that the followers of Firestone now number in the
millions and are growing with each passing day, as it is another day
that the Preacher Firestone does not eat, does not sleep and talks
without losing his voice, making claims of his divinity harder and
harder to argue against. “[Firestone's] not normal, I have to admit
that,” Ovaltine Goose-Shredder said late Thursday after calming
down over a few drinks at Poachers. Goose-Shredder, Firestone's most
vocal critic, conceded that there may be something significant about
Firestone, but that it has nothing to do with divinity. “He's so
beyond normal, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that he has some
enhancements that mimic bodily functions like Karen does. I've had
notebooks go missing before. Those ideas could be out there.”
Stopped for comment outside the Covant Garden Market, Citizen Danny
pondered Firestone's divinity as well. “I wonder if he's like... I
wonder if it's going to turn out that he's just been a manifestation
of a shared concept all along. Something like... if he's not human,
then maybe he's an idea that we're all hallucinating.” Asked
whether he considers himself a follower of Firestone, Danny was
adamant that he was not, but agreed that Firestone has some ideas
that are worth hearing. “If you separate the Google nonsense from
the things he says, he is hitting on a few good ideas. I didn't
realize it at the time but that Zen stuff he said at New Years really
helped me with a friend's death. That's when I started giving
[Firestone] a little more credit.”
Firestone has been repeating a single
sentence several times a day for the last week, asking his acolytes
to start making public art projects that promote “submission before
the Google.” Given that straight talk on political and social
matters rarely gets anything done, the idea Firestone is promoting is
to influence horizontally by creating something compelling and
mysterious that contains the ideas he feels should be disseminated,
in hopes that they worm their way into people's consciousness like a
catchy fucking song. So far, no Google-centric public arts project
have been created by Firestone's acolytes, but given their sheer
numbers and the trust they put into his words, experts are certain
that the acolytes will soon flood the public domain with their
message.
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