The goals of storytelling …

“The core goal of all storytelling is to GET PEOPLE to incorporate the narrative into their own memory.” – Dr. Freckles

“A secondary goal of storytelling is to get people to RE-TELL the story, thus spreading its effect.” – Dr. Freckles

Think about the APOLLO MOON story …

No matter what you believe about it, it gets embellished on, facts change, people even make up stories around the event that are not true …

“I was HERE when it happened …”, kind of like the “JFK” I was here stories …

The retelling of the story naturally mutates it … but more so, the MEDIA PUMP around the story gives it heat and permanence outside the scope of human memory, and becomes a MEME in the context of culture. I guess.

It does become a retained memory.

My dad told me a story once, when I was a kid, about some dude that was running his car on water – it was the 1970’s, and we were sandwiched between two OIL SHOCKS …

Then, when I was 11 or 12, I heard a similar story on KOMO 1000 AM Paul Harvey …

And it’s hard to say for certain how the story spreads or who spreads it, but it can spread on its own if its the RIGHT story.

Now think about COVID …

Paragliders …

The HERO STORY of ASSANGE …

George Floyd …

You ever wonder WHY they are doing all these derivative remakes in the movies and pop culture? – Because if you see it from the right angle, it looks like concertina wire around the collective unconscious.

Do I believe it’s “all lies”? – no …

Do I think you need to be a talented Sovietologist to see through most of it? – yes.

Am I good at it? – sometimes.

The hardest thing to overcome is wishful thinking …

What makes a good story a GREAT STORY? – it’s a story you WANT to believe, and probably NEED to believe.

MIND WORMS

If they started harvesting the homeless?

Immigrants?

Mexicans?

If great pig-farms were built to recycle the donkey-flesh of this human swoil?

The pitiful toil ends my friend, for the mind-worms and the time dentists. All the fusion butt-rash memories melt away, as if the day turned to delight. And your sadness were a night faerie built from vodka drink soul pain and Rogaine feelings for balding flange ferrets and worm grease growers.

A gender neutral re-freezer is being constructed near Spokane, WA. Hustlers from Skeevic Ville are heading to the Palouse to hunt the wire goose and skizz-heathens who worship in the Columbia River, and cover themselves in cesium and horror.

MONSTER JAKE runs the station in Yakima, and hollers out to Ellensburg monks focused on paper mites and toilet pale fights. Sure, you could get stuck on what this means to Elroy and the Ugly Gang – but never forget the healing power of SEA-FLOW and spider egg magic.

I remember MONSTER JAKE and SISTER LUNA and the whole EAST SIDE GANG from Kettle Falls. We were the undying spirit of meth lab LIONS and tear down razor fencing. Our dogs wandered the grasslands, feeding on spice-miners and terrifying rat-queens from Boston.

TURG-WORN princes were left humble before the Ghost of Kiev, as Russian tanks rolled by, and Baghdad Bob rose from the grave to deliver his monologue. Corbis, the guzz-muzzler, wearing wire and diamonds and leather, would rub her boovula as the Teutonic Knights ravage S’compton. Grinken Town brides weep deep, and leave their kids in storm drains as their phones tell them: “MISSILES INBOUND: TOSS YOUR KIDS DOWN THE SEWER …” And if you were Hawaiian? – you probably would.

Stool samples are being collected at the Burger King in Tacoma, the one on Hill Top …

They want skeezy style love juice for the celebration of Tacoma’s vibrant art district. Mind worms are trending on Tik Tok, selling this FETE to the single freaks at PLU and the WARGONE-HARLOTS of Lewis-McChord …

Viggly sauce from the South Center Mall goes for $45/oz, and kills the backpain your chiropractor gave you … you can get back to American Lake, and strip at Hugh’s Golf Club, as helter-salesmen tell stories of pimp-rockets and cluster-bomb bimbos …

Triscuit seekers making taco surprise are trying to sell me property near Derby Village. Old Eskimo Bob’s place is for sale, but you have to move the bodies. Sometimes he’d hold parties out there … weird soirees style SEX get togethers, where donut maidens sell their milk dud challenge.

Windswept scoundrels show up and are buying gold from the monks in the drawing room. There are priests built from silver and diamond and rusty old chains, and the widows sing songs of Glyb-Meat and trail-paste.

You MAXED OUT ACHIEVEMENTS on XBOX, and your girl from 2007 is calling on laser phone. She wants to know about your Mexican lover and her burrito milk pizza. And you tell her to “shut up”, but you also send her an email with a picture of that weird wart on your penis. And the lawyer’s letter was clear, “restraining order”.

I could hear your voice MIND WORM …

I heard your CINDER SPARK and saw you get lost in Fresno.

On this date, July 4 …

On this date in 1233, the MORGUS THRONG was defeated by General Zod of the 8th Dlimbli Army of hedonic zeitgeist … and Queen Morbly released her boobies before the crowds, in symbolic supplication to the destinies of broken hound folk …

Yergis, the frog-greaver, took the castle near the SUN and made corn bread sausage for Captain Quint.

July 4, 1233

Today is the day we remember, when on July 4, 1876, Doctor Klebins of Boogs, Mississippi, built the worlds first microwave snack dinner. Half the town were burned by radiation and the rest were hunted by mutant alligators and other Louisiana style trash.

Heeptous, of Southern Alabama, declared all swamp zones to be of WOO-POISON and under the sway of Kentucky style stripper-witches … all of whom were high on KRANK.

And they were heroes … July 4, 1876.

On this date, so long ago, July 4, 1954, Pumpkin Head rose up from the Bikini Atoll Test Site to kill and ravage nuclear hookers in sector-7.

On this date the MINUTE MEN invented MINUTE RICE and gave millions diabetes …

On this DATE, the GREAT PRINCESS MARGUERITE led the scrumbly English fleet to a great defeat during the 3rd Pig War: Pigaggedon …

On this date, July 4, in the year 989 AD, Sister Boona of the Wallslyan Cloister of outer BUSTY, was ungunjoolating herself in the sacred baths of Tlam, when she discovered the healing power of SEA-FLOW … a husky and dusky and swarthy young heebdous-herder, named DEEBOUS, shirtless and sweaty, transferred his tig-oil into her boovula …

And they were all heroes.

Where are we headed?

So many I once respected, I no longer trust with 5 bucks.

So many I once believed were good and kind have become monsters.

So many think RAPE and THEFT are okay, if you’re wearing a sky flag.

So many believe “yours is mine” – and cannot see where this leads …

So many children abandoned.

Too many generations misled …

Where are we headed?