Portrait of black and white television inside a picture of color television inside a frame of high definition television constructing holograms with our ideals and driving us towards the ceiling in a fit of dispossession of our true selves.

Oscillating frequencies stuck on redundant. Here is the mind-slew of the fetid spectator who forgot how to act.

"I used to hum new languages from music's wealth/which would entrance all the pretty girls/who let their hair down as twilight unfurls its stars/though I have grown older now and forget/that the older women are after bank accounts and new cars/and not for the person that they have met."

Incarcerated in gesture, the spectator yearns after the psuedo magical portrayals of machined values. He sits as stupid as a pisspot, yelling obsenities made for television in knee-jerk reactions cultivated by education in and out of the work force. He yearns for something to please his eye, as opposed to the eye of the mind that appraises substance.

"We were once young and gay on this shore/and thought that the bad days would end/well we grew up and forgot all the more/why we had fought the forces that mend/our betrayals into selfless acts/and our hatreds into gestures signifying amends."

One time we went on a country drive in the winding forests of the Northwest. The air glimmered in fog embued by sunlight and passing sparrows flew in crooked lines low across the road. Everything somehow was just like a picture, only it was a picture we hadn't seen but rather imposed through our knowledge of photographs and films upon the moment. The force of media apparatuses have taken their toll, even amid the solitude of beautiful moments, and yet we lack a countervailing force of media to distance us from our tragedies though it may snatch our wonder. A machine has yet to be invented, whether constituting media technology or not, that soothes the suffering of humanity instead of intensifying it.

On the pathway to alienation, I stuck my rifle in the ground and carried on under a mercurial sky, wondering. Were it fate that would bond brother to brother so tenuously as to rely on socialization of the individual for our every connection, or was it timely tragedy that destroyed our ability to find allies? I think it was our ignorance of class, how it should unite us instead of mystify us falsely by its purported absence. The poor should befriend the poor, as the rich know the rich. But we were divided by nightmare considerations of human nature, we were divided by the unreal aspect of humanity that clouded us over in anxiety when contemplating the unknown of another person's world. Truth be known, people are very similar, and it is only through gesticulation that we pantomime differences, one of those gesticulations being the ownership of commodities that exist in code with social status. Truth be known, the worst of us run the show and the best of us drink water made filthy by factories. Truth be known, nobody ever told you how to deal with the tools offered to you by your own class of people.

I went wandering to the docks, fishing for sharks with a linament of fishing line and an earring hook. All i caught were stares and questions, wondering what my work day was like to afford me the opportunity of dalying in pantomime of true fishermen, the ones with capital invested in boats, and I had not a word to excuse myself beyond the concept of childish imagination, which was what my motions rested upon. I was told to leave one day and wondered aloud what my next activity should be invested in, so I took up gardening and grew potatoes, garlic, and onion so that I might have a supplement to my meals.

The human world is so poor that it exists only in relation to itself, which is why it must destroy the silent criticism offered by the natural world in order to retain its function.

"Where once their was a forest/they put up a one-stop-shop and liquor store/where once there was a tangled garden/they eviscerated the earth of its natural lore/for the sake of some numbers called dollars/for the sake of an economy that makes everyone into a whore."