Infomercia, 'Tis for thee


My fellows, for shame! When we gene-spliced Gates and Jobs in Morita's warm enzyme bath, did we not create an eternal model for art? Is not Clive Sinclair's inventessence in the flesh vats of Merck, from which we all were born? Two ministers propagating not His Refulgent word, but that of the enemy!? Hacking dreamcasts? Challenging our engineers!?

Sirs, I know it is difficult, without the umbilicus, to remain focused. And these "commenters" who question us – phaugh! Do not think we fear the dissolute ideology at the heart of this rebellion. Technology is external: it cannot embody any notion of creative expression, any more than the sun could rise backwards! It is a door, a shining, rainbow-filled glowing happy door, to the creative works that so many at the Ministry of Intellectual Propriety lovingly craft. Is that not enough wonder?

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