Inspired by Yul Tolbert's last sci-fi zeen, and frankly fed up with the planet Earth and the many phony pretentious mendacious block-headed carbon life forms who inhabit it, I'm currently on my way to the planet Zytron, from where I'll be sending back periodic reports.
To anyone who thinks they see me on the streets of Philly: that's someone else.
Never fear, I'll be continuing my war against the demi-puppets and their Overdog overseers from my blog's new headquarters. Yes, they've spread themselves throughout the universe! Puppet strings and all. I'm told there's even a McSweeneyite colony on Zytron, run by brainwashed humanoid simulcrums. My Zytron contacts have provided me with maps showing locations of the Cult's various fortified holdings, circled in red and highlighted as BDZ's (Brainwash Danger Zones).
I'm eager to see how Zytronians are handling the problem of corrupt culture. Their solutions seem to be more aggressive than ours. The steroid problem in sports, for instance, has already been solved. Now their congressional hearings are dealing with literature. (I've been viewing them on a special remote Zytronic television broadcast during my long hyper-speed journey. Under grilling by Senators is someone who resembles Tom Bissell. Awaiting questioning is a manically sweating goggle-eyed WASPy silver-haired dude in a pin-striped suit who looks like a banker. When the camera turns to him the caption says only, "Magazine Editor." In Zytronian of course.)
My next report should be posted after I've landed. Now excuse me while I settle back in a console chair and put on stereo headphones as stars planets galaxies zoom past the window. I've been listening to a beautiful Zytronian voice which sounds strangely like Joni Mitchell. Out here.