Monday, September 5, 2016
prose-cartoon || Adam Engel
I Mourn the Loss of Meme
Meme the idea I call myself. Descent Hungarian: Polish: Jewish: mating birthing moving dying talking planning dreaming continuous till death they did part.
Formerly alive and young Me of a strange and distant century.
Educated in the grand tradition of public schools and television. Calvinist Consumerist American Meme. Media stealth blitz ravishing The Word. Images more potent than: more lively than: more sticky than. Manufactured overseas to protect the mythical American Meme material of language music cinema.
Meme the holographic cells of Body Politic. I mourn the loss of Me to me. Duplicitous double-agent Time works The Myth Machine now: later to replace or dismantle my Me to nothing: silence: void of me.
I remember doing being -- aware of doing being -- in Time (“what happened?”).
I remember Me in motion. Proof of Me my self alive and separate from me-Body-Politic. Goose-stepping acolyte and yes-Man me on loan from Time to Time. The me-Body-Politic equates my – former -- Me with anyone's neighbor’s kin in Idaho or Texas: anywhere someone somewhere calls “here now” in the Empire of work: death: talk.
Citizen Me immortal. Oh poor me (as I now must call myself)! The 50 year drama without narrative thrust forward. Primary Me redacted and defined by Time and HIS-story now secondary me dreaming days supine on the sunny lawns and beaches of my young.
Sentimental dissipation. Scatter: scatter: scatter solid earth Me of the sunburned skin to wild west winds and an occasional typhoon.
March on: march on: selfless-expendable me-mortal. Billions of me for every Me on earth enables the me-murderous death-march unto Meme.
Slaughter devour disperse till nothing left of Me but me.