It’s a drizzle morning, coulda slept in till damn 0900ish. We’re it not for the vampire weekend in my head. It woke me at 0400. Makes me rise.
Rise and shine.
Rise and fight.
‘Your souls grown old and rusty, beneath the rising sun. Locked up like a trophy. Forgetting all the things it’s done. ‘
I couldn’t sleep. Listing capers, projects, mind ablur of numbers and codes. It was like crypto school all over again, learning weapons systems and sound profiles. I had these complicated,often ribald,mnemonic devices for all the common threats. Mod kashins, scud, mig, missile profiles, sub wash. Prop wash.
Hells bells, I still dream of prop wash and static, pinging into the deep blue. Kicking back a clear profile to her threat analysts. Clearing her up in my mind.

Things have changed. This battle is ours, our battle for the hearts and minds of our creative class. Pinging them with wilder and stickier capers. Watching spermandegg coalesce, runningwithcharlie distribute, planning the bovinova2.0, seeing tedx3 spring forth,Handcrafting lather up, dreaming of the meatmarket art exhibit. Tonight bandicoot hosts byot6, the rain is prolly a blessing. At least, it’ll give the neighbors some peace, I hope. My plan a sitter bailed, I’m struggling for a plan b.
But that’s the beauty of scale- you don’t need to run everything. You just gotta lay the tracks for success. Whazzat secret sauce? Be intimate, authentic, and unexpected. It’s a proper length of Schadenfreude to see our stalkers and lurkers try to emulate it. They know the words, speak the language, but still fall back on their glad handing vapidity.

‘Come look at my online catalog, let’s meet at the country club for some golf, here’s a fresh box of donuts.’

Yeah, that prolly worked for your grandpa, and your daddy. But lemme be perfectly clear, Charlie don’t surf. Swaggy don’t golf. This is an insurgency, a goddamn revolution against your crapassery and malpractice. #Kooziemongercorporateassclowndouchecanoecatalogcarpetbombingtrunkslammerstalkergladhandguys don’t seem to understand the depth and breadth of the revolution happening all around them. Their orders for product may keep coming in, keeping them fat, wealthy, and happy. But their tribes are migrating. Leaving in droves. Their clear cutting soft serve vanilla generic policy of how they once served the creative class is leaving their former hunting grounds barren. Like a post apocalyptic battlefield. Glassed. Firebombed till its just a thin layer of glass. Thin as their ideas, thin as their dreams.
Sleep well, mofos, cancel your foursome because the rain. Cause there’s #149 of us, coming to rain sharpened iron and steel upon your flaccid ass. Your passive aggressive smear campaign prolly did you wonders.
Did I mention vampire weekend was on a loop in my head?
‘We mostly work to live, until we live to work. ‘
Tired of that riff? Tired of this battle? It shows. It shows in your work.
This is the latest I’ve posted a trust366 this year, prolly the longest and angriest too. I don’t hate the #kooziemongercorporateassclowndouchecanoecatalogcarpetbombingtrunkslammerstalkergladhandguys, just wanna raise the bar on our black eyed industry. We just wanna change the world. And see you suck less. So try that,k?