I’m watching a Marilyn Manson video, and i’m halfway inside a bottle of Jameson. The enter key is broken, or the return key, if you are known to use old computers, like the time they were still named after British raincoats. Those were glorious days, the days of sunshine. The days of Happy Days, when the Fonz was still kicking and futures were waiting for you thursday at nine when the latest episode of Star Trek would air, when sunshine would grow puppies out of gardens you were not allowed in. The lady figure of this story has crumbled like a statue in Rome, because uv and marble are bad partners in crimes committed against Camels. Smoked by thirty odd year old homosexuals late at night, wondering were the lighter of their life went after leaving for a pack of smokes. There is no sun, it has only stars. Coming from someone on the street called the online community, the idea of the sun is a complete fallacy in the eyes of the Lords of science. And who are we to challenge the Lord.We are just the ones who are.