Fifteen minutes of fame, said Andy Warhol. Just fifteen minutes for each of us? Expect, my friend, a Wednesday night, a full length PBS documentary with interviews of the people you've known, the people you've loved, hurt, disappointed. See the people for whom you've exceeded their expectations. See the people who like you, who despise you, who help you, who decry you. Friends, acquaintances, enemies, paranoids with their conspiracies of you at the threatening core of alien landings, the annihilation human stock. Watch and beware the experts, the academics, the politicians and pundits who put your life in the context of the times, of the culture, of the way things were. Beware, too, of how you live in the now. For the starchy-collared, button downed, straitlaced, will be that companion guide in glossy details of languor and dullness. Think now the future, think now the consequence of your life with your collection of fast food forks, plastic straws, mustard and ketchup condiments in single serve aluminum foil wrappers. Eat away, bite the Taco Bell tortilla, but hunger for life, before the world sees you in the context of now rather than what you ought to be.
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