When everybody knows your name......
Yes, I think it is the only way.
This is after all the era of PS2 designer multi-angle violence, Reality TV shows that goad their Sweet little Whorehalls into acts of clumsy battery, Grief pornography burning into our retinas again and again, from the twin towers to the tsunami, school shooters and advertisers hawking your own death with a free desert camo suit into the bargain.
It seems that swift meaningless violence with no context will today dress you in that tux and have all the paparazzi flitting round you like flashbulb butterflies. If you don't have any talent, imagination but do have abusive parents, schoolmates that force your skinny carcass through Hell every day and a blog that nobody reads there seems to be only one option.
Random, Sudden, and merciless violence. Every shot will echo across the world, they will of course all be sorry and those girls that laughed at you, well they won't be laughing anymore. Your fame will shimmer across the fibre optic network that we have streched across the skin of the planet, and above there will be talk of you between the stars as the satellites whisper.
Sign that form, the one that states you are over 18 and do not suffer from any form of mental illness.
Or better yet, creep upstairs, open your dads closet door and crack that gunsafe.
Open that black holdall and pile that gun metal blue over gun metal blue. Go to your place of work, or your school and pick your first target, the rest will fall into place, once you squeeeeze.
The gun shouts and kicks, the rag doll falls, look for others whimpering, shivering and wide eyed beneath their desks, every corpse is 10,000 points, 10,000 neilson points.
If you survive you should be feared, respected interviewed and even in jail, get wedding proposals....it worked for Ted Bundy.
If you die, well your blog will get more attention than you ever dreamed, the hit counter will spin so fast it will induce digital orgasm.
Load the Gun.
"Click, Click, Click, Click!"
Listen to that, its the fucking sound of history.
The Virus spreads, another kid who is just like you were, sits sedated in front of the TV news, not hearing the screams of his parents, he watches the cops bring your bagged corpse outside. And now, well, now you've got him thinking.
Now he's next to be consumed by this media virus that kills quicker than Ebola.
Peace and Hope.
FatherCrow
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