You’re an unemployed artist. The year is 2061. A series of bombings has rocked the Capitol in the Western White House District, which is located in the heart of Hollywood. The Eastern seaboard is uninhabitable, owing to a mysterious GMO accident, which rendered all plant life in that region poisonous… Reality is a nasty syndicate operation. The technical side is put together by high-IQ idiots. They like to fiddle. They like the con. They like to torpedo the mind. The syndicate is the Reality Manufacturing Company. You buy a ticket to Disneyland—which encompasses the area from San Francisco to Tijuana—go … Continue reading →