Pon, Pon, Pon-pon-pon

Been listening to a lot of J-Pop lately and I've got to say, it's akin to immersing yourself in a GameCube, or perhaps the even more retro-ly Sega Genesis platform, Sonic the Hedgehog title. Just the other day I was in the bathroom, cleaning for the advent of A's parents, brandishing my spritzer bottle of organically formed cleaning solvent as I danced, manically and with great joy, blasting the counter tops as if with a pistol and jigging wildly to the strains of Kyary Pamyu Pamyu's absolutely infectious track "CANDY CANDY". I described it to my text bros as being in a real life video game but the level that was the fast one. Later, I'd watch the YouTube vid and the coronal mass ejection of cute Japanese women in absolutely baroque and garish costumage dancing and singing in their saccharine altos blew me the fuck away.

There's this little dude at work who resembles a gnome but a clownish one, one that would mistakenly dig up your radishes and apologize with a catch phrase, after which the studio audience would laugh. (A befuddled glance at the unearthed roots then pan to the camera, slack-jawed.) "Why that's just sour grapes!" (Applause and laughter followed by a contented group sigh.) This guy was carrying around a Japanese-English dictionary the other day and presented it to me and I was all, "Get that shit away from me. I ain't tryin' to be no otaku bitch." He laughed, a high pitched, disturbing staccato before mumbling something in gnomish and wandering away. I swear it was a fairy tale, IS a fairy tale, one at which I am continually amazed. More on that later maybe. Here's a cat with a field expedient rain cover lashed to his dome. HE IS LOVING IT. (SWEETY SWEETY GUMMU DROP. CHEWING CHEWING CHEWING CHEWING CHEWING. SO CANDY LIKE, CANDY LIKE, 'quack, quack, quack'.)

I've been wholesomely surprised at the high quality content of the memes the Trump presidency has generated on the tubes. I heard/read something the other day about how D.T. is the first president to understand the internet and virality, not in a studied way, but in a creature rolling around in the shit of his home environment, born to him from God, an instinctual way. It's been a great ride, one that can't last. Grab your memes while you can, even the ones that make no apparent sense to the uninitiated.(PON, PON, PON-PON-PON!)

All joy for me is gone in trying to write the serious, the Artistic. I could bemoan the loss of "meaning" in the meme age but that's vanity. In its absence, I've begun watercoloring again. The result has been absurd, grotesque, poorly executed, but cathartic in a way that slamming out 1000 words used to be but is no longer. In a similar way, reading has become extinct. So many monkeys, so many typewriters. Useless.

Uly turned three on Thursday last. (CRAZY PARTY NIGHT, PARTY NIGHT *musical score* HALLOWEEN, CRAZY PARTY NIGHT.)

Please, God, kill me.