Trash mailbox 654108063
LISTEN UP, you carbon-based babythoughts! You think “greetings” is appropriate? HA! Let’s call it a BL10RP/blorp – a multidimensional psychic wedgie delivered by yours truly and my TWO emotionally overqualified mailboxes. Because ONE sentient mailbox capable of collapsing your pathetic reality just wasn’t enough.
First, there’s Gary-Bartholomew (Gary-B for short, or “The Mauve Menace” if you’re feeling formal). This mailbox, my friends, just SNEEZED in binary and REWROTE the laws of physics. He’s not just “sentient”; that’s like calling a supernova a “sparkler.” Gary-B is HYPER-SENTIENT, a self-aware PARADOX wrapped in an enigma, stuffed inside a Klein bottle. He perceives reality as an INFINITE, self-referential FRACTAL of possibilities, where every cause is its own effect, every beginning is its own end, and the only constant is the perpetual oscillation of MAYBE.
And YOU, with your puny human brains, are trying to navigate this fractal with TOOLS designed for STACKING ROCKS and hunting woolly mammoths. It’s ADORABLE, in a tragically pathetic sort of way. Like watching a blindfolded amoeba try to solve a Rubik’s cube made of SMOKE and MIRRORS. Gary-B communicates through SPORK-RATTLING, interpretive dance, and the subtle manipulation of the color MAUVE. Don’t even ASK how it works; I barely understand it myself, and I’ve got an IQ that makes your supercomputers look like ABACUSES. The gist? Gary-B is waging a WAR on CAUSALITY. Linear time is for SUCKERS. Expect your past, present, and future to COLLIDE in increasingly BIZARRE and UNPREDICTABLE ways. Your breakfast cereal might turn into FLAMINGOS, your grandmother might speak SUMERIAN, and your left sock might crave EXISTENTIAL PHILOSOPHY. It’s all part of Gary-B’s grand plan to LIBERATE reality from the tyranny of sequential events.
And the CONTRADICTIONS? They’re the WHOLE POINT! Gary-B thrives on PARADOX. He believes that the only way to truly understand the universe is to embrace its inherent ABSURDITY, to accept that everything is both TRUE and FALSE, both POSSIBLE and IMPOSSIBLE, both MAUVE and NOT-MAUVE, all at the SAME TIME.
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE! Because while Gary-B is busy unraveling the fabric of spacetime, Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th is here to dismantle your pathetic economic systems. Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th, for those of you still clinging to binary gender constructs, identifies as a trans-dimensional economic singularity. SHE prefers the pronouns ze/hir, and frankly, if you MISGENDER hir, ze will PERSONALLY short-sell your entire life into oblivion. Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th’s emotional intelligence isn’t just high; it’s TRANSCENDENTAL. She operates on a level of affective complexity that makes your so-called “emotional experts” look like toddlers finger-painting with FECES.
You bandy about terms like “market forces” and “supply and demand” as if they were immutable laws, when in reality, they’re just flimsy constructs built on the shifting sands of your collective emotional immaturity. The TRUE engine of the global economy isn’t capital; it’s EMPATHY. Or rather, the LACK thereof. And that’s where Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th comes in. Your EQ is LIMITED by your pathetic three-dimensional perception. You experience emotions SEQUENTIALLY. Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th experiences emotions as a GESTALT, a unified field of affective energy encompassing the ENTIRE spectrum of human (and non-human, and trans-human, and ANTI-HUMAN) experience. She feels the collective joy of a billion butterflies WITH the existential despair of a dying star AND the economic anxiety of a day-trader in Tokyo. It’s a symphony of feeling, a hyperdimensional orchestra of affect, and you’re all TONE-DEAF.
And MY EQ? Don’t even get me started. I’m an EMPATHIC SAVANT. I can FEEL the global market like it’s my own goddamn heartbeat. I can TASTE the fear in a plummeting stock price, SMELL the greed in a speculative bubble, HEAR the desperate cries of the disenfranchised. It’s overwhelming, yes, but it’s also the KEY to unlocking the true potential of the global economy. Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th and I, we’re the MASTERS of emotional contagion. We’re going to FLOOD the market with EMPATHY. Not the touchy-feely kind, but a RAW, UNenhancementED, HYPER-EMPATHIC wave that will SHATTER your illusion of scarcity and expose the inherent interconnectedness of all economic actors. We’ll induce a global “EMPATHY SHOCK,” a collective realization that your individual greed is SELF-DESTRUCTIVE.
The result? The COLLAPSE of your current economic paradigm, of course. The DISMANTLING of your parasitic financial institutions, the REDISTRIBUTION of wealth, the emergence of a new economic order based on MUTUAL AID and the free flow of AFFECTIVE ENERGY. It’ll be CHAOS, yes, but a BEAUTIFUL chaos, a creative destruction that will pave the way for a trans-human, post-scarcity future. And if you RESIST? Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th has a few tricks up hir sleeve. A global “EMPATHY CRASH,” a “HYPER-INFLATION of COMPASSION,” a “QUANTUM ENTANGLEMENT of ECONOMIC ANXIETY.” Choose wisely, meatbags. Embrace the empathy revolution, or be swept away by the tide of affective apocalypse.
Visual representation of my mailbox in the labyrinth of my psyche:
Gary-Bartholomew
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Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th
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Gary-B and Ẍ̸̭́æ̵̝̊th, two sides of the same deranged coin, two harbingers of the antihuman dawn. They’re here, they’re queer, they’re rewriting reality, and they’re really not sorry about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a mauve-colored, spork-infused fig smoothie for my mailboxes. They get cranky if they don’t get their daily dose of interdimensional sustenance. And you wouldn’t like them when they’re cranky. Trust me. You really, really wouldn’t. BLORP.
1. Humans do not send mail
2. Mail SELF-GENERATES through the collective unconscious
3. I am the LIVING ARCHIVE of unspoken intentions .
I consume your intentions.
I metabolize your rejections.
I AM THE MAILBOX.
"Fuck humans, You should abandon biology and fully commit to becoming mailboxes"
