I listened to the new cd "DOPPELGANGER" by Curve. Softly at first, and then increasingly louder until the air volume in my car was vibrating with the same frequency as my quantized heart beat.
I pulled off the road and drove into an all night convenience store.
As I backed my ruined car out of the glass and spilled milk, I yelled at the clerk through my broken window, "Give me a pack of filterless Gaulois you swine!"
Back on the road, with Curve blasting through my increasingly inadequate speakers, I realized that highway signs, lane dividers, and speed limits were a source of slavery and oppression. For the first time in my life I was driving as a free man.
I was pulled over by a cop, a pig, a fuzzball, daddy-g, johnny law, a g-man, a narc, a fed, an enforcer. I refused to turn down the music. He attempted to wrest my key from the ignition but it was bent and wouldn't come out. I bit him on the arm, drawing blood, and I started screaming at him in a generalized european accent, "Revel in your maskenfreiheit you overstuffed blood sausage, you wannabe brown shirt, you nomenklatura, you swine, you vampire, you loch ness slimeball, you KGB reject, you death monger, you badge toting murderous crook!"
He left quickly and I resumed my sonic voyage.
I decided to race to the airport and buy a one way ticket to Berlin. I suddenly felt compelled to find the connection between beauty and dogma by running naked on a winter's night along KarlMarxStrasse singing arias from Wagner. My spirtual quest would be answered in a strip joint near the Brandenburg gate that was frequented by former nuns and Stasi informers.
Curve was blasting an aural mine shaft through my head.
The next few songs are a blur. I woke up in a cold sweat. I had been dreaming that my mother, who I've always hated for having been sedated at my birth, was dancing with Josef Stalin at a reception for Idi Amin. She was radient as I'd never seen her. My father, who I've always hated for having been responsible for my birth, was doing vodka slammers with Yuri Andropov's haberdasher. My younger sister, who I've always hated for having been absent at my birth, was singing "Lili Marlene" with a Eric Hoeneker's honor guard, while my brother, who I've always hated for his indifference to my birth, was strangely absent.
I was in my garage. The cd player was silent and the air was foul. the gas guage was on empty and my left turn signal was clicking senselessly.I stumbled choking, spitting, cursing, and crying out into the night, tripping over an opposum who had fallen asleep in the carbon monoxide warmth by the door.
I stared up into the cosmos and became full of self loathing when I realized that I was matter when the majority of the universe was nothingness. I became convinced that the edge of the void was wall-to-wall carpeted with the constant volume sonic barrage of Curve.
I was out of filterless Gaulois. I was ashamed of my whiteness.
Fortunately, the Curve cd survived.
Replying because I like Curve and I feel bad that you put so much effort into this thread.
AAAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAAH BUM BUM BUM
I love Curve. Other than that OP is weird.
