The media. The Mainstream Madea. And a somewhat fractured remembrance of MySpace.

I was being funny, and they were seeing, this is fun, like getting kicked in the nuts on a lark, and I was like yeah.

They were experiencing otherness.

I was experiencing an overwhelming sensation, and carried along, I became, as it were, a force for my own end, towards an end for my own force.  

In nutpain they had a kind of out-of-body experience, wretching and wrenching, cavorting, and doubling at the middle.

Sounds like someone doesn't trust a free media, but that's just one man's take: the straw man argument.  "He blindsides people by kicking them in the nuts when he finds them unawares."

I was watching Djanko Unchained, and generally thinking the soundtrack was a$$.

I was watching the usual back and forth revolving door between MSDNC and the White House, and kind of thinking, you know, its not dishonest, per se, as birds of a feather, not after the other side a while back, not after that, but you know.

A grain of salt.

And a little salt leavens the whole lump.  Little bit goes a long way.  One bad apple in the bunch, and kerplewy.  Excise, exorcise and all that.

Maybe their can be kind of unfettered, not butt hurt quality about it, but appreciating someone else's perspective.  I could try it, you could try it.  We could be

a little tv island

where we coordinate our own opinions.

*Gail is autistic.

They had enslaved the wahf, cause she was "ethnically-undesirable" or something, like that, whatever passes for decorum in polite society, and there was "economic activity" and she was at once praised for being "co-equal" but that 72k out of the man's 100k, and she could only do one new SUV at the time.

Jamie had a gun.  I know, this gets tense, and it wasn't the single-shot shotgun, either, not the one from Bentonville, but something else, a big ole forty-figh, put a whole in you big enough for someone to walk through.

And Alec had a gun, but no one knew, on television or anywhere else, that if, on some of the old-style single-actions, you pulled the hammer back, then released it, it could in fact detonate a round, but they didn't know, as it was all a henky kind of he said she said.

And all the killing should be make believe.

And the Republic gravitated towards static portrayals of good versus evil, so the analysts said, where in truth, someone just made a string of good comic book movies, but they said it was a trend in a world, a world where....

the real world had such vague definitions of good and evil, maybe, so they said.  So they yearned for something more clear, something not as dishonest as the public discourse.  Something more of just getting the bad guys, now and then, but it was vigilante stuff where the police were being demonized so, around.

Someone knocked on my door, and they just stared at me.  Me knowing what they wanted, you know, me knowing and all.  But no, I would hand them a refreshing fresh fig.

I wouldn't.

As a boy, I read the reading primer stories of one Mister Fig, who had a magic car, and we all made a big whoop about it, some weird with a cool car, you know?

I know, I know, this is like an episode of Quantum Leap, the one where Sam jumps into Michael Knight's body and takes Kitt around the block a few times.  But it was ripsh*t for kids, the magic car, and we all were just on the cusp of Power Wheels going nationwide.  It was like, a fuse, a scratching finger for an inch, that way got our dose of bling inside the pages of the reading thing.

 

*I never trusted the movies' Iron Man, no matter how entertaining the character was to watch.

*Captain America is boring as watching paint dry.

*Doctor Strange is implausible.

*Twitter is/was the great NFT that Moonraker could put in his own personal collection.

MySpace was so much better, in some ways, than Facebook, but still.  Of course it was much less of a thinly-disguised advertising platform than the modern Facebook.  Newcorp purchased MySpace for 600 million, and meanwhile, the snarky on-air talent were mentioning Facebook as sort of a satire of some private, catfished citizen, a catfished citizen who had incidentally posted a selfie on his online site, which the snarky ones lampooned as "facebook" in their doublespeak.

For sake of simply raking an innocent person over the coals of public opinion, they made mention again and again of "facebook", and NewCorp soon sold the once-king site of MySpace for less than 1M.

The snarky ones(from Earl Hannity down to floorscrubber Trace Gallager) cost NewCorp 599 million dollars, for the sake of their on-air doublespeak.

There's more to that story.  I had a brush with the MySpace gremlin many years later, thanks to a cribbed user database.