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Passing Green Screen Village

by John Thill

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1.
putting my cv dazzle paint on and checked against the databases pixelated but no matches an unknown in the crowd staring at the lens to get my retina read at the gates of the golden city all the interstices between money and the things that i believe are getting fewer every evening at the checkpoint and though i wash my hands i can't escape from these demands saying silent prayers that i'm not being watched by the spies and the infiltrators
2.
a touch of jealousy now lies below the boredom while dumping the raw holograms into the templates but i'm thinking wistfully of white sand beaches and the field team blissfully stretched out on the shores well, at least they recirculate the air here beneath the blue led glare i know there's a heaven somewhere in my head dosing research chemicals, peeling back the spiderwebs i know there's a valhalla somewhere in my mind where only the breave dare to tread i know there's a heaven somewhere in my head
3.
waking up to rays of sun in the grey walled city putting my glasses on and flipping throuhg the settings until the buildings compliment the sun and the world is so much less dreary checking on the weather feed and putting out a sweater thinking through a piece of code in the rationed shower the notification buzz in my ear interupts a workout session a text is in just now housed in analog encription waiting at the tea shop to be read before the weekend trying not to think about the war the drones shining bright in the blue sky picking up some madelines before the workday commences before i board the train off to the corporate campus watcing the cleaning crews disembark in green screen village watching them walk through the warrens to their corrugated cottage switching up the overlays until i don't have to see them i choose the cliffs of dover i never get tired of it i watch the waves crash over and over
4.
cueing the program up, lying down in the backseat adrift in the driverless car in a night full of stars a cut through the vapor haze was your face on the buildings all of the overlays are replaced by your image grimly smiling out of my memory drifting to sleep along the edge of the bay coasting to the pink blush of morning over bridges, under freeways
5.
6.
i must admit i'm bored in my dreams take any given day imagine what it brings all of the overlays strewn across the city walls my pupils dilated, taking in it all i must admit i'm bored in my dreams amidst the washed out images all that i can think is that they put me to sleep
7.
i must admit i'm bored in my dreams take any given day imagine what it brings all of the overlays strewn across the city walls my pupils dilated, taking in it all i must admit i'm bored in my dreams amidst the washed out images all that i can think is that they put me to sleep
8.
viscous and dripping across the mottled surface like a hand that's gripping the globe watching them take down the sherwin williams logo and now i know the sadness of seeing a dominion come to end locking up the doors of the drab paint store losing the battle and the war the only thing that sells for any prices at all is a single shade of green they use to paint the slums so the rich don't have to see a thing at all
9.
Vapor Pens 02:33
when we listen to the stories of the glory days from our parent's lips to hear the promise and bounty of a time in which we'll never live amid the drone patrols, the bored summer streets and checks for general relief by the blue sea, under blue sky and inside of the green city it's pretty clear to me we'll never be rich let's spend the afternoon with our vapor pens in the end they'd like to pretend we don't exist there's no reason we were born but now we have to live we have to live of all the potent causes and reasons for the mess we're in most often we will point a finger at the robot arms and algorithms
10.
across the bridge amid the light arrays there i know you will patiently wait i will reach out to you until my hand, it passes right through sometimes at night i dream of a place that's exactly as it seems play back the surveilance feed and try to separate the overlays from the living tiny chinese parcel arrives in the post with a powder active at a microgram dose walking in the dark along the reservoir anticipating all the visions that lie in store
11.
awhile back i was given some sound advice from an old friend he said, if you can't write the new languages it's time to leave and he commenced to repeat some midwestern daydream i laughed as a final admonition he said, it's only a matter of time before they shoehorn you into the green screen village but surprisingly ten years on i found myself on the cusp of true wealth having gotten rich off a low tech scheme to subvert the surveillance state but of course that was when the men with badges came to see me yeah it's true i sold out what little choice i had yeah it's true i sold out what little choice i had and i wait now with baited breath waiting for them to drop the nets holding out the cipher and the duplicated keys and now the tea shop mailbox room is a hallway of the damned yeah it's true i sold out what little choice i had

about

Bridgetown #123
John Thill’s grim vision of the future sees paint stores struggling to stay in business solely on the sales of a single shade of paint intended for green screen editing the slums out of view. The corporate brand entity known as America has reached a level of dystopian surveillance state brought on by an abuse of the technological marvels that cyberpunks could only dream of in 1980: holographic avatars and overlays flicker on microchipped surfaces while drones emerge from the smoke of vapor pens to shove infidels into driverless cars at cloaked security checkpoints. The crucial question posed by our harmonica-toting protagonist is how many mandatory software updates are left before this becomes our reality?

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released June 7, 2015

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Bridgetown Records Los Angeles, California

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