Bela Lugosi's Refrigerator

What if you gazed at an object so hard it sprouted blue blames? What if the object were a fork? Or a female breast? Objects form the substance of the world. Therefore, they cannot be donkeys. Donkeys carry things on their back. Pickaxes and propositions. Roughly speaking: objects are inscrutable. Mute. Completely mute. Except for microphones. Coffee machines and blenders. The hiss of irons, the chatter of jackhammers. Objects contain the possibility of all states of affairs, and are analogous to tutti frutti. Propositions can only represent the whole reality if they’re plugged into a source of energy, a 50-watt generator or Bela Lugosi’s refrigerator. It all gets rhythmical in the end. And we all become bits of information on an enormous grid. A phenomenon called social media. Where the medium is the message and the message is infinitely diffuse, the microwave radiation from the Big Bang and a wop bop a loo bop a lop bom bom.