Monday Morning Commute: Nanobots In The Digi-Air

Don’t breath too deep, friends. You see, they’re done with the fluoride in the water. That’s the old tip. They’ve moved on. Now it’s the nanobots. In the air. Infesting our cortex-bits. Prepping us for the ultimate in meta-data. Meta-cognitive data. Don’t breath too deep. Don’t breath at all, if you can help it. Reject the need for oxygen. Has anyone ever really shown you that you need it? If you didn’t believe you did? Eh? Oh — me? Off my meds? What is it to you, buster? Fuck you! No — no. Please come back. Partake in this here column. Monday Morning Commute.

The watering hole where we share the various arts we’re indulging on a given week. While we can. Before they activate nanobots.

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Despite all the hullabaloo about the (seemingly douchebag) author of the book, I’ve been wanting to see Ender’s Game. So I started the novel today. It’s not very amazing. But I’m only one-hundred pages in, or so. Give or take. I’ll stick with it. The interface-porn in the trailers combined with, you know, space-ships have me wanting to see the movie regardless.

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I’ve been all about that Skittles life lately. Too much Laffy Taffy hanging around in my guts. Slugging it out with my bacteria. I need to move on, onto something else. I’ve been informed that Skittles get along quite well with the shards of glass and baseball hide that I ate last week in a moment of insanity, so I’m sending them down into the belly. Together, the Skittles, Shards of Glass, and Baseball Hide shall punch out the Laffy Taffy.

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I snagged Deus Ex Machina: Human Revolution – Director’s Cut – Cyberpunk Spunk Bath for $30 when it dropped. I had stayed from the initial iteration of the title after hearing laments about the boss battles. Whelp, I can’t speak to that original cut of HR, but this “Director’s” nonsense is the unfettered cyberpunk berries. Everything that rubs up against my tech-fetishist glands in one tiny package. Or is it enormous, throbbing package? None the less, I reckon this may be the last stand alone (I will be snagging BioShock Infinite’s absurd fan service DLC) title I will rock on my 360.

A fitting end.

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Agents of SHIELD is kind of sucking less. It’s becoming bearable. I mean, not good or anything. Or great or anything. But I remain hopeful it can find its footing.

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The PlayStation 4 is getting closer and closer. And closer and closer. And closer and closer. And yeah I don’t really think there is anything dropping immediately that shall ignite my taint with erotic glee, but whatever. I’m a console junkie. Not denying it. Don’t want to deny it.  Nineteen days or something. Twenty days? Something?

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That’s about for me, folks. Feeling a bit apathetic this week. Or maybe it’s bored. Shake me up with your happenings. Right to my core. I need it.