Simplicity

In this city everything must be simple. Its babies must be able to disassemble engines, its politicians must be able to read the meaning of life from teleprompters, death must be able to read Gravity's Rainbow in his cracked mirror before he shaves some more lives. Instructions only come in the universal language of love and/or violence, and all the tabs work no matter what slot you put them in, even if strangers say it should be illegal. Schools are dynamited around the clock, because nobody needs to learn anything. Correspondence classes in Laziness 101 can't must enough students, and new employees a promotion each day till they are presidents and CEOs. Eventually, people will forget to breathe. All this will be left are the skeletons of cars that ran out of fuel, the shells of people who were soft as the insides of crabs.