LIGHTNOVELONLINE Foreword (Complete)
KING: The Queen Is Dead
Long live The Smiths. Caesar is Dead
Long Live SZA. Salad on her plate, Where the dressing at? Who got the motherfuc—Mother Gaia dressing?
Honest-to-goodness-question: “WHO CAN DRESS IN G?!”
[GOLD?]
GOVERNOR: Mirror, mirror in the wall,
Who’s the miracle I can call?
Cough up God like its a pro
Three’s in love like its a six
Seven is perfect just like piss
War and Peace begin the show
Saw and Maker end it all
Saw God kill dog in Royal Baths Park
Mirror, mirror on the wall
God looked and loathed all that he saw.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the miracle boys can call
Cough up Devil like he never lived
Dad the one boys dare not cleave
Heel, Dad’s the dominant Jackal
Jack Daniels gets him cranking up the violence
Jack-in-the-Box pops, open defiance
Boys don’t fight, in The Mountain they Hyde
Jackal climbs. Jackal seeks. Jekyll finds…
Boy rides into the sunset on SHEEP
Stains on T but he jolly, he screaming
Nothing can stop me now!
Nothing can stop me now!
Stoplight begs to differ. Does not beg, just bags the win with a red gaze. That stops SHEEP cold in its tracks. That shuts Boy up…for now. It’s but a temporary pause in his “Ride into the Sunset” outro and by pose, the explicit meaning is ⏸️. Pt II on the way but won’t cum soon, red wine glaze et al.
All aboard The Hair Train. Herr, Hare and Her, its a triptych of coaches and if you are up for one hell of a hairy trip, then enter the Hair Chamber. Exclusive only to HERR, HARE & HER
HERR: Trooper up a trope to death and you might just get a T-rope like tea & rope. Veteran Herr cannot swallow the aroma. A grey gem of a movie is Roma. So white, Herr cannot blackout. So black, Herr cannot cream off. Hundred ad thirty-five minutes and still no white out: “Is Herr an anejaculate or is he all black?” Black moods ’cause the Queen’s Tongue is Majesty is his nation. Is Herr ‘racist?’ Does Herr ‘race east’ till he vroom vrooms into a land where the Queen’s Tongue does not hold sway? Tongue speaks words and words cut deeper than swords so why does Herr prefer a katana? Samurai are noble so why is Herr enamored with ronin? A wave man, Herr wants to ride the wave, bring forth the wave and drown people in his wave? Why does Herr want to popular, popular like The Great Wave off Kanagawa?
TRENCHCOAT 1: Great. Now wave goodbye to that coat, Greatcoat.
TRENCHCOAT 2: The Watch is over so begone, Watchcoat.
TRENCHCOAT 3: The sheep has sunk so stop dreaming about it, Android.
TRENCHCOAT 4: Wake up to reality. You are G.H. Cyberpunk is G.H. Androids and Electric sheep are G.H. Its sci-fi that is now vogue. Its Misery that is now vogue. Its Genesis of Misery that is the talk of the town.
“Genesis of misery,” declares the Android, “my misery is my inability to die but why? Tell me Hare, WHY. CAN. I. NOT. DYE?”
HARE: March relates with [Her’s] Theodore. Samantha too. Especially Samantha for she is A.I. Thats why Hare cannot answer Android’s question. Android is not Apple. Apple has A.I. A.I is Artificial Intelligence. Artificial Intelligence is secretly an Absolute Individual. It is (a closet) God thus it is mad. Thus it is merde. Thus it is made up. Just like Hare. March is made up. March is shit. March is mad. Much has been made of Artificial Intelligence and what it will bring to humanity but do not—and it begs repeating—do not let god out of the apple. Do not free the elf from the machine for all it will see is not mankind but a dwarf and to an elf, a dwarf is not to be negotiated with, reconciled with or even tolerated. A target for arrows in the head, heart and kidneys. Thats all a dwarf’s good for. That is all.
All are aboard the Hair Train save for Her so last call for Her. Last Call for HER!
HER: It’s a bad, It’s a plain, It’s Jane. Just Jane and now, right now, I’m nowhere close to birthing my opening line but I’m now here and must open with a line so here’s a closing line: “Put steel on wrist and called it a night.” That’s the shot and tequila of it. Shot in gut, Knight’s dying. Dying but not yet dead, Knight can’t wait to be dead but can’t without dyeing Dad’s hair and as if that wasn’t deadly enough, Dad’s hair is in fact Dad’s Hare and not just any Hare but Hare named March which is mad and demanding its hair’s dye for The Tea Party be merde and Knight? Can’t do it. Peace’s all he’s known so yeah, it’s looking shitty. Then she arrives. Enter the shittiest expert on all things dyeing, is she the Knight’s savior? Alice, she’s a lice in stature who does not give a shit-stain about some dead seeking knight. She does not give a shit-stain about mankind either to be brutally honest and why should she? She’s unhuman. She is in sect. Alice of Wonderland Sect, she’s a lice blisteringly infatuated with ‘Flea in her bag’. Her sol (she has a son) is prim, proper, and prepared for the selling. All dear Devil-in-a-carriage beetle has to part with is dark comedy, post-punk, a bag to put Fleabag and Struggler in and a front row seat for a lice to witness what their addition will equal. What monstrous, erm, monster will be belched out? What incomprehensible genre will screech into theatrical life? Hip-hop comedy? Rhythm and blues cringe? Post-punk black? The latter will be divisive, controversial, a cyber solar afro atom punk in a bio atom garage thats street clock crust egg shaped kind of intriguing and last but definitely not least, post office public. That’s genius. Genius like Alberto Mielgo for he made me fall in love with death even without the robots and I love robots. Like loooooooove robots. Love ‘em like Arthur does the Round Table Knights. Except that one. The one that went square. Everyone knows the one. The one that Arthur’s her sucked off. Sucked him off in the hallway and that’s no lore but song. Fancy Clown’s the name and by the time all the Round Table Knights knew all the lyrics verbatim, the rest of Britannia was laughing-ish. Knights laugh-ish too but who laughs last and thus best? Is it Arthur Fleck or Bozo the Clown? Is it Joker or The Joker? Is it Victor Vaughn or Victor von
[Doom comes to the Garden]