It happened during a performance of Shulket's 'Ariadne' a concerto for several hundred transistor radios, all tuned to random associations; their petro-chemical skin taxes needing to choose between (((((barely matters))))) of pointless human sound, their human attendants pretending to work their gears and knobs and cranks / Cranks but everyoneknowing (the radios especially) that these humans, these females are simply garnish, there for the supping of the various lunatic hordes of men, unusually transfixed by the sight of women and machines, or the blocked causes of useless, suffering, man-machines.
It was to no ones surprise when the first of the radio girls started to uncouple her machine from reality, twisting the case obscenely and revealing what we always knew was there.
The people who had not come to die spent their last moments flicking in panic through their Programmes.
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