Jul. 8th, 2015

by time and the unavoidable process of smug cultural self-flagellation responsible for that shit, I call dibs on writing the first biography of Hussie attempting to "place Homestuck in its context" after one begrudging watch of Con-Air which I'll spend mostly on my phone reading The Atlantic.

I'll fuck up explaining what instant messaging was, talk about how SBURB actually really definitely is a narrative about American income inequality, claim that it "uncannily predicted" the Broborger Wars of the 2030s. I'll entirely re-write my co-author's sections and now they want their name off there, but it's too late, HarperCollinsGlactoSmithKlineses has sold three million digital copies which are already running in many human brains' oneiro-buffers, loading my horseshit directly into their subconscious minds and forever overlaying their understanding of this great work and tumultous time with my own bullshit narrative. I'll diagnose him with whatever disease I'm preoccupied with right then.
for people who are caught up. (Probable spoiler for anyone else, I guess? I'm up to episode 40, though I've been thinking this since So Many Birthdays.)

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