I held a birthday party at one of the local temples in Japan. We got kicked out pretty quickly. I should have known that a temple wasn’t a good place to have a rock concert.
They say it's been a hard time for job seekers these days, but I'm sure you should be able to find a job if you're not picky about the company you work for.
A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?