My name is Breton. I am standing in your living room. I am watching your TV. Don’t worry. You’re not missing anything. Nothing good is on. Former celebrities gathering together for twenty-two minutes: thirty-six channels. Current celebrities: twelve channels. Three-hour extravaganzas in search of new celebrities: every broadcast network plus Turner—you only have 70 channels? Finally understanding culture: anuttara-samyak-sambodhi. Still, Jennifer Aniston is quite funny, and Jerry Seinfeld hot as hell. Wait, reverse that…I think celebrities enrich our lives, but who’s counting everything they sell. Your body begins twitching, hoping my trigger finger isn’t itching. But it is, so let’s begin and end this before we become cannibals. Ages come again and ages go away, better not to dwell then on our prolonged depression.

“But I have dreams.”

There is a war coming.

I’m no longer in your house. Now, I’m in your head. My name is Lila, nice to make your acquaintance. You better do everything you can to keep me well to do here for all our life, else you’ll be processed and forgotten in our selection. There is a war coming; everyday it’s here. Can’t you feel the heat of combat? In this competition we either kill or we are slain.

“But I have dreams.”

“Not in this world, all heroes are impotent in a wasteland such as this. Fuck your mother! Buy low! Sell high!”

Don’t be scared. I’ve put down the gun. Sex and the City is on. Everything’s fine here, in our sterile world. The lesson has not been forgotten in whole (just reworked so it will seem as if we’ve won). Save what reality’s begun: let’s stop acting on what’s possible here and concentrate on the actual. Nothing sweeter can ever come.

“Waiter, we will have our dessert after we are done. Until then, we will do our damndest to enjoy ourselves while we kill and eat our young.”

Bring on the sweet meats. Bring out the dead. Unless you have the chance, unless you find yourself as circumstance’s friend, you are just fuel to the fire, pawn in a covetous game of desire. Now you listen to Lila. Gather up possessions; go to Bloomingdale’s and buy what’s on the mannequin third to the left as you get off of the escalator on the 5th floor. In case you get confused, the same outfit is displayed first mannequin to the left of the revolving door at the main entrance of the store. Buy the whole set: the herring-bone slacks, the Italian leather belt & shoes; the 600 thread-count undershirt, the silver Egyptian cotton button-down, the stylishly thin black tie. If no one has asked if you need help yet, find the nicest looking woman with a name-tag and ask her to point you to a jacket that will suit you. You’ve gotta look great for this interview. How else do you think you are going to pay for all this?