HOME | DD

Description
Listen: I'm going to tell you about a narcotic substance. It causes hallucinations, personalised to the individual. This drug makes people believe that shadows will, inch by inch, consume their environment. The shadows are different for everyone. For example, on a tiny speck of dust in an infinite universe (did I mention this drug is intergalactical?) there was once a man who wrote a story about a man whose shadows were non-existant political enemies. This writer's country later went to war with a man whose shadows were a race of thieves, of scoundrels, who were solely responsible for his country's woes.

Listen: This drug is a biological weapon. The man slaughtered six million with it. Six million choked on it, were herded by it, were shot down by it, and lived it. Six million.

Listen: I'm going to talk about something else now. I'm going to talk about a tea party. You know what tea is, right? The country of the writer I mentioned before is rather fond of it. Tea parties used to be a popular pastime in that country. Children still pretend to have them, sitting in a (x-h)2+(y-k)2=r2 with their fake animals. They pour a concoction of hydrogen, oxygen and miscellaneous ions between receptacles and talk pleasantly about the weather, as fully-mature beings of their race ought to. Occasionally, one of them will be overzealous and spill some on the floor. Occasionally they get in trouble for that.

Listen: Sometimes these children grow up to be different. Maybe they dress differently or want to love another of the same "gender". The inhabitants of the insignificant speck of dust are very concerned about "gender".

Listen: Sometimes biological weapons make people hate these little boys and girls. Sometimes those weapons override survival instincts and the little boys and girls jump off bridges, into danger, onto railway tracks.

Listen: On my planet we don't believe in calling anything less than what it is.

The narcotic substance is fear. Shakespeare wrote Macbeth. Hitler killed the Jews. Kids sit in a circle and fake tea with water. Kids kill themselves because all they want is to 'get some' from another dude.

Listen: Isn't it strange how quickly I can kill the magic of the mystery? I could kill a person too; I'd break their neck.

Listen: I'm not really intergalactic. I'm just a scared little girl in a dark room and some of how I wrote this is fiction. I don't want to tell you which bits, but here's a secret: I'm scared of my subconscious.

Listen: I have another secret. Somewhere in here I lied.

Description
Listen: I'm going to tell you about a narcotic substance. It causes hallucinations, personalised to the individual. This drug makes people believe that shadows will, inch by inch, consume their environment. The shadows are different for everyone. For example, on a tiny speck of dust in an infinite universe (did I mention this drug is intergalactical?) there was once a man who wrote a story about a man whose shadows were non-existant political enemies. This writer's country later went to war with a man whose shadows were a race of thieves, of scoundrels, who were solely responsible for his country's woes.

Listen: This drug is a biological weapon. The man slaughtered six million with it. Six million choked on it, were herded by it, were shot down by it, and lived it. Six million.

Listen: I'm going to talk about something else now. I'm going to talk about a tea party. You know what tea is, right? The country of the writer I mentioned before is rather fond of it. Tea parties used to be a popular pastime in that country. Children still pretend to have them, sitting in a (x-h)2+(y-k)2=r2 with their fake animals. They pour a concoction of hydrogen, oxygen and miscellaneous ions between receptacles and talk pleasantly about the weather, as fully-mature beings of their race ought to. Occasionally, one of them will be overzealous and spill some on the floor. Occasionally they get in trouble for that.

Listen: Sometimes these children grow up to be different. Maybe they dress differently or want to love another of the same "gender". The inhabitants of the insignificant speck of dust are very concerned about "gender".

Listen: Sometimes biological weapons make people hate these little boys and girls. Sometimes those weapons override survival instincts and the little boys and girls jump off bridges, into danger, onto railway tracks.

Listen: On my planet we don't believe in calling anything less than what it is.

The narcotic substance is fear. Shakespeare wrote Macbeth. Hitler killed the Jews. Kids sit in a circle and fake tea with water. Kids kill themselves because all they want is to 'get some' from another dude.

Listen: Isn't it strange how quickly I can kill the magic of the mystery? I could kill a person too; I'd break their neck.

Listen: I'm not really intergalactic. I'm just a scared little girl in a dark room and some of how I wrote this is fiction. I don't want to tell you which bits, but here's a secret: I'm scared of my subconscious.

Listen: I have another secret. Somewhere in here I lied.