Thursday, July 9, 2015
Circle Heads of Planet Ma
They sleep in a box, they go outside after breakfast and sit in a little box on wheels, they drive their little box to a huge box of boxes that even has room for mobile boxes in the basement, they step into a tiny box all together and press little buttons 4, 32, 67, they walk into large room full of topless boxes, or if they are important they have their own private box, and some even have secretarys in the box outside their own. A piece of paper lands on their desk. There are little etched stained ink glyphs on the paper they grab and orient correctly with the top on the top. It is, in essence, a smashed box that has become two dimensional for all practical purposes. They stare at the box as the 60 Hertz lamps modulate a light onto the page reflecting the opposite image of light onto their retinas sixty times per second exactly the same beat and synchronization as every other person in that entire huge building box. The little glyphs then proceed to change the patterns in their minds in a most peculiar fashion that actually changes their minds. They sit and stare until their mind has been completely boxified based on their prior highly focused educational box created in the box world. Some of them will add a note, or make a new smashed box to pass around to everyone else, or perhaps to only a few of them.
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