SHOK-1

In 2011, all communication in the world will take place via Myspace. The human genoform has mutated ... adapted to it's new habitat. The limbs have atrophied, the vocal chords withered to a thread. We are pale, limbless invertebrates, approaching pure concept. Rupert Murdoch has become an immortal god figure, a vast, planet-sized flatulent hairy brain hanging in the immeasurable nothingness of media space. We will reproduce digitally, via friends requests. Women will have evolved into inflated arsecheeks with a USB port to market them. Googleflops of bad bands swarm around the Murdochoform, absorbing genetically modified opinions like flies around freshly-laid dog shit ... but there is no more dog shit. Dogs have become nothing more than a concept - they only exist as a text string in a list of "interests". In fact, nothing exists anymore. Life has become a low-resolution jpg and you don't belong to you : copyright of your existence, your every thought pattern and consequence, was signed away at the point of your conception. You are just an idea. A bad idea. An unoriginal thought transcribed in plain text format........... Someone draw this for me. I can't be arsed.