As you all probably suspected by now, the WIERD has long wondered precisely what it would feel like to run someone over in ITs car, not for any blandly morbid fascination(zzzz...), but rather for the more potently contemporary notion of IT being one of the most potently visceral ways of truly experiencing the human body as an depersonalized object in 2011.  A few nights ago while drifting aVRound out in the aether WIERD encountered a charmingly frazzled young a man named Gino who had experienced said IT for real - "Yeah man last year it went down - it was intense so killer, this crazy-cracked out skinny little Indian dude comes bolting out of the local happy-ending-rubdown massage joint on my block at 3:30am and I totally nailed him, right across the upper legs, ka-bunk-clunk damn!...Just like running over a huge tree trunk or something in my old monster Thunderbird I'm tellin you.   He got up all cacklin, we called the ambulance and got him in some casts and he sued my insurance company promptly few months later, made 125Gs and now has a nice little cafe where I get free meals whenever and now Manu and I are VReat friends it was so cool!"  Hmm who would have thought objectifying the body of another could bring you closer to IT, or Man-ooh in this case, perhaps his Hindi VRomenclature is the key to the wierdness here?  ITs kind of like the difference between lookin down at the bulky keys in the pocket your own tight jeans and knowin they just open that shitty Thunderbird door vs. mis-seeing this same bulge in the crotch of another in the lonely, quiet suburbs and imagining the dark pleasures it might bring to be-hold in the latenight 'ours'...Man-oooh...and IT continues...

As always the WIERD pondered - exactly what would be the next darkly splendid next step in the evolution of this erotically frightening experience of the body as an object?...and as always it would be 'to do this abstractly', VR.  To do what?, What are the odds?, and how to do IT?  A couple latenights ago this question of the WIERD's was answered as our fave pre-apocalyptic network MSNBC aired the new edition of their top rated familial end-all doc 'Sex Slaves in the Suburbs', yeah you've seen IT theres hundreds of these pumped out nowadaze.  The thing that made this particular edition truly abstractly 'complete' was when the first advert kicked in courtesy of the cold dominion of mega-adstraction par VRexcellance Windows 7's new photo suite... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjtqoQE_ezA

"Windows gives me the family nature never could"...click, VR. 
 Looking downtown at the bulging gateway to the Thunderbird, and with the VRememberance of cold things past of Gino cropping Manu's legs 'in extensia' to create friendship and familial-enducing happiness 'Ka-clunk!' at the quiant cafe in mind, The WIERD reminds you IT has long pro-offered the notion that photo-shopping the body.  And 'shoppin out' ones family in particular here, is a nice allegory of not only the abstract body of 2011, but also that very rarely 'croppin out the family' properly represents the broken down family unit ITself, and the abduction and prostitution of fleshly reality ITself.

It was with this epicly now realization of the connection between the advert and the content It adstracted that the froidetasticly chilling climax came...Just after blondy meta-Mom's last touches on her creation comes to Man-ooh cumpletion near the end of the spot and she turns wawy from the window and into the camera to beam yr body with her gaze of terror..."click...To the cloud!"...man theres so many of them out in the suburbs of nature, all nice and healthy, white and fluffy..hey i want one(!).  After the 4 panel windows of darkness descends on your plasma-screened gateway to death, the MSNBC documentary commentator chimes back in - "76% of recovered teenagers in the suburbs of San Francisco were found enslaved and hidden within inner-city massage parlors...".  Manu gets up in deleriums of eastern bliss - "ooo sheet I forgoht my valleeet again so sohree"..."godammit Manu get the fuck outa here you wasted pervert freek every time you forget yr cash you gotta pay to play!"..."OK OK I'm going so sohreee!" - (out the door he goes, into the 3:30 nite) - SLAM! ka-bunk-clunk!.  "To the Cloud"...

See you tonite in the WIERD's fluffy hour lair...Very Rare.