1. neo-Marc Bolan electronic music with a kinda Chromeo thing going on.
The refrain is (redneck black guy): HEY KING BUSTANUT, WAH CHA TALKInnNGgg ABOUT?
veeerrrrrrrrrr (tv tuning noises pharoah comes on TV)
Pharoah: (booming god like voice): Why I’m talking about Dolphin sex-becase it’s what’s next.
Uprising folkishness voices as if Marc Bolan is humming Led Zeppelion.
stories about falling in love with 3 – 5 dolphins. in between each story the refrain with the black guy and the pharoah plays. video takes place a in pool. dolphin 1 falls in love with Japanese girls (group of japanese girls trailing dolphin around pool) dolphin 2 lives indian guys (indian dude riding dolphin) then break into went out the ganges to meet some Hijra, hemaphoridites dancing by pool, dolphin 3 don’t know etc. etc. Includes the line song in Bolan-esque style “All the critic say, Mr. Jones why don’t you do I rock? and I tell’m becuase for 15 years all rock music has taught me is to be passive and weird.” oohhhh. slam.
2. I become a ladyboy prostitute, form a union with health insurance and a generous funding of post-secondary education, eventually create an escorts website for ladyboys, am featured in a small segment in The Economist titled The Value of Tolerance which is about how Thailand has benefited from it’s tolerance (seriously dude, there’s like an entire african-arabic disapora here), create world renowned recylcing center, create NGOs for the hijra in india and wind power in Lao, end up running multi-billionare dollar rna based cosmetic gene therapy center, am interviewed by Richard Florida for a scathing New York Times Mag. article on the young hip anti-american american disapora that forms during the 8 years of Bush administration. All while wearing a series of lovelyingly made ethnic dresses imported from tailors in Laung Prubang, Myanmar, and Mongolia. Am assaulted by various celeberities who want my clothes at a hip California conference where I am speaking about my new company that creates new products from naturally occuring ecological networks such as weather forecasts from the alagae blooms in the ocean’s gyres etc.
3. I am wrting a novel about a bacteria that eats plastic and expells a waste produce eaten by hepatitis C. Hence over night plastic becomes a reservoir for hep while it’s once permanent qualities degrade, at the same time an anthropologist is working with a group of researchers in Singapore to become a dog, a boy and an elephant are having a homoerotic relationship with a mountain lion, the town of Karachia, Pakistan mysteriously dissapears only to reappear in Blovia where they form a golden republic of sharia laws and persian systems of government in accordance with cuban catholicism, and a group of aliens crash land into earth unleaching a bacteria that eats plastic, proceed to take over the entirety of north america (with a rousing gun battle in montrael as french speaking cavalry jump McDonalds to crash land into an alien space ark), but the Aliens are a metaphor for Guns, Germs, and Steel (they turn out to be kinda like a cruise ship from another dimension with little concept of how their technology actually works), and yet the book is really about relationships, about people, about their problems and works, and how they all interact, it’s about neuro-diversity and the different problems we all have. Thomas Pynchon is qouted on the back saying I am the only author he respects, but secretly the people at McSweeney’s all hate and curse my name.
p.s. these are the most embarassing entries to write, but also the most entertaining. I feel kinda dead after words. Raise of hands please for other day dreamers?