Friday, June 8, 2012

Organic Industries: Initiate Subject Test (IST).







Sound good so far? Great! I knew you’d be a good sport about it, honestly. All of our test subjects are required to pass a physical and mental examination before proceeding to this point anyhow, so don’t worry if you don’t pass, there’ll be plenty of opportunities for you in the salt furnace or the sludge mines. They’re always seeking eager young underachievers such as you. Oops! I didn’t mean that. We hold all our test subjects in the highest esteem possible.

The question we’re really asking is how much control does he really have? Well, let’s solve this thing! The solution we’re looking for might seem like a bit of a crapshoot at first, but rest assured that one does exist, and once all the bugs and kinks are sorted out, everything will probably run fine. And I use the term ‘probably’ with the most delicate precision that science can afford. First of all, think of your brain as an outlet for motivation to which the cord of influence connects. Got it? Great! When connected, a signal of pure influence (sources vary), is fed through and divided along some complex pathways of criteria. All criteria of each pathway are broken down into a list-like hierarchy of relevant social patterns tied primarily to speech, action, and a few basic motor functions. Some motor functions are like a gas-sucking 18 cylinder behemoth, and others are like a puny lawn-mower engine that makes an annoying whining sound as it revs to life. If your influence is balanced, you might be lucky enough to receive a Bat Mobile or a DeLorean DMC-12 of influence, causing the motivation outlet to sprout sparks of happiness. If not, this interface is guillotined by blue vortex that dismembers and ejects relevance from the subconscious, dumping the remains wherever the hell it wants to dump it. Kinda like a goddamn garburator or trash compactor run in reverse (very messy!).

Are you with me so far? Good, we’ve almost got it!

A signal impedance is caused by an overhanging bed of crystallized daggers bolted to a ceiling of pure methane. Just kidding, you can’t bolt things to a gas! Just checking to see if you’re awake. Anyhow, don’t worry about the daggers, they’re just for show. Ignore them. If they fall on you and tear your feeble body into a million unrecognizable pieces, that means they’re working as intended. But don’t worry, you’ll be reassembled at the organ dump, ready to face the next challenge in no time flat! You might think that being diced up sounds a bit uncomfortable, but in reality, it’s not so bad after the second or third time. Just think of it as a friendly game of snakes and ladders gone horribly wrong, where everything gets puréed into an organic soup of nothingness. That’s where chicken-nuggets come from, in case you were wondering. Learning is fun, right? Well, it might not be as fun once your learning modules are stripped and retrofitted with potato batteries. But if you’re lucky enough to survive the chicken-nugget stage, you might be rewarded in the form of personal growth and human experience! Just don’t get greedy, or your life-essence might get consumed by a sea of countless billions high on bath-salts, like that guy in Miami who got his face eaten off. And phase 1.1 gets exponentially more challenging, depending on the strength of his grip. I hope you brought a motherfucking crowbar!

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