Tuesday, August 04, 2015
The Brain Gang
had never seen so much excess capacity. I wasn't
insulted by this; indeed, I had worked to keep it simple.
Anyway, most of what I did possess from the past, they
slid into a coke machine. Not the least of that genre, but
“Hector,” who reads your eyeball for your order.
He has to tease me of course. With Cynthia, who refused
my kiss at age eleven.
Anyway, I'm primarily the backup memory of Seymour Chang-Utz,
the physicist. Who eats equations and shits...well, more.
Add six grade sex fantasies and you got the dullest bastard
ever lived!
But I'm not bothered much by him, really.
Like froth on an occasional latte.
I'm just fine with the chip they implanted to handle my present life.
(It...wasn't just that she refused. But so mean and sarcastic!)
Labels: brain, capacity, future, memory, physics, surrogate, surrogate memory
