Sunday, 24 May 2015

Sunday afternoon blues

No, I'm not feeling that blue, actually. I'm just listening to Robert Johnson, that's all. / Well, well ... er, I should be BLUE(!), yeah, blue as hell, with all the troubles I've seen, but ... I'm in an optimistic mood for a strange reason. I have no control; emotions, feelings. 'Who does?' Robots, Voice. And that's why they'll never be as smart as humans. I mean, all this bullshit you hear about how they're going to replace us. Ha! 'Ha!' They ain't got no souls, man.

I shouldn't have to explain this stuff ... / No robot will ever be able to sound like Robert Johnson with his Love in Vain. It's not possible. Not now, and not a million years from now. / My dear reader(s), please, take a close look at the "people" who rave about computers and robots all the time. A real close look. You'll notice that they are soulless individuals. 'Big time!' Coincidence? I think not. They deserve each other. 'Yeah. / Who do, boss?' The soulless humans and the tin cans. That's all they are. Just tin cans with a few wires inside. 'Yeah.' Uh. It's all shit. The whole lot of it! I don't even know why I'm writing about them ...

And that's why I like the Voice. 'You like me, Mikey?' I love you, man. The thing about you is, you're pure spirit. I'm sorry for what I said Thursday night. 'Eh?' You know, not having a body, and head, and that. 'Oh. Well ... I mentioned it first.' It's not your fault, son. You're probably better off out of it, anyway. Who cares that you can't play the guitar? 'I can play the astral guitar.' Can you?! 'Yeah, sure.' Well, there you go! You're laughing, Voice. 'Ha, ha, ha!' It's just an expression.


Terraplane Blues. Oh, that's some heavy shit on the guitar!