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Ridin Away From Your Sh*t Like TooDaLoo (A Colo LASO fragment)
"So you're saying that you got a publisher?" his brother squinted as he did his best not to yell.

"I'm saying that it doesn't work like that anymore. Now if you have a decent proofreader and can push it straight through to a printable and presentable product it generally finds its way onto someone's shelf somewhere." Satu was yelling; his friend was legally deaf, had fallen on somewhat hard times and lost one of his $1,800 hearing aids. The other was in a bad state of disrepair but that was a fairly moot point since it had been quite a while since the hearing loss and now they were standing over a sand pit said had at least two caterpillar D11R earth movers running at all times.

"So basically what you're saying is all it needs to be as good, complete and make some sense?" his brother from another mother nodded and added, in thought.

"Precisely. Fact of the matter is that the market, right now, is absolutely flooded with garbage to the point that even the huge publishers can't find anyone that produces much of anything they can shove enough of in a binding so that it looks like something beautiful because brass tacks and bald facts, most of it is just garbage. Sure there is an entry fee to pay and more than not you have to produce work that's package and attractive enough to make someone want it but at least whenever it's your money on the barrelhead you can turn out the work that you want to. The real proof in the pudding here is that the underground sub current of the real writers who, whenever they were teenagers, wrote pretty good fanfiction are now writing great work and work that other people who are on the same page want to read. The big producers who have been sitting in their office, cut off from reality? They don't have a clue who those people are or where to go find them. we've all been hanging out in the same chat rooms for the last 20 years. The real magic of the situation is that it doesn't matter because they're not looking, either one of them, for the other one. Sure, big-time distribution and becoming a million billionaire is a wonderful thing but whenever you're simply writing a fanfiction and work at a fast food place thousands of dollars can make a real difference in your life."

"So it's kind of like what happened with Robinhood and the hedge funds?" He asked absent-mindedly as he reached over and resest one of the heavy Earth movers to another slot.

"You know, I was going to say no but basically it is exactly like that. These big publishers have been short selling artist works for so long and subverting them into categories that didn't match the original intent of the works and they thought it would go on forever, much like the music industry thought that CDs were going to last forever.

I've spent a great deal of time on a new app just simply listening to music that the person in charge of the audio stream room has going in the background while we just talked about things. Last night one of the friends in the room said, "It just be hittin different." and he's right. Now sure, I'm an old man but I have been through a lot of things and many of these kids have real problems. More things get solved in there than most any Hospital psych ward you can imagine and I have been in a few.

The big-time people who were making money off the actual labor of people, I believe, is grinding to a halt because of the communition mediums that we have available to us." His brother's stared intently at his lips. "Fact of the matter is more of us that have been involved in this because we know how to use this technology. We are much more able to be able to find the exact and actual sirt of the things that we enjoy. Much more aptly than any of these disassociated, narcissistic, abusive, overbearing facists that originally spoon fed us garbage that we didn't want in the first place."

B grinned as Satu rambled off on a rant against the man, "Yeah I get what you're saying what about you and making money a covering your ass on this whole thing."

"That's just it brother, I'm not too worried about the money right now because of exactly what you were talking about earlier, however I do need a lot of people to see and know and understand that not only are they under the grinding heel of an oppressive government boot that thought that it could shut down trading the minute that it didn't benefit them but it also has it's tentacles in literally every other facet of everything. I have found multiple small sections of people who enjoy the same things that we always have and do so because of the love in their heart and being spiritually aligned for those who want to do what's right for mankind... and the greatest part is they are kids. Not the people set up that you see on the news burning things down and tearing things apart but that are building things up with the power of will and the spirit of their heart. Lotsa real art."

"But what about you bro."

"Ima hafta spread cheese, say my prayers and never look back. This has to be done, there are literally women and children going missing and I have to get back to work even though I don't want to. I took a hit, I crashed and burned but it's not the first time. at least this time they didn't actually kill me but I do believe that it's because they saw the past instances where someone else did and I didn't stay dead."

"So you selll Deadpool yet?"

"Man, that's been a really hard decision. You know that I love it and my boy died in it..." he sighed and remembed that he was going to finance whatever he could manage to do with the money that came from that before this little hit. He thoroughly wished he had invested more than the small pocket change and had come out better than he had however he did have a few pennies to rub together to make this happen. The paper passed across the table had a private investigators name that had been at work in the area and he was trying to get back to since 1977 and he was told from a trusted source that he could be trusted as well. He had to make sure that he spread the cheese right and he really didn't want to let go of the Cadillac but it just might have to find a new owner. "... and I'm still not certain if I want to take the bullets scar off of the fender or not and if I'm going to resell it they might not care for the provenance of it."

"Don't forget to take the Dozen bags of the unidentified white powdery substance, shovels and stools out of the trunk." He laughed and shook his head thinking of how many police had been invited in.

"Yeah, I still got to do something about that piece of shit that was raping little girls whenever I left here that tried and basically did ruin my life whenever I had to leave here." Both of them suddenly turned serious.

"Damn dude. some people ease off the gas as they get older."

"If they quit hunting me like an animal and then smashing into me again and again I would." he laughed. " I guess you just can't stop some people from butting with their own hard head even if it is a brick wall."

"Never had stopped you." B shrugged.

"I meant them.. like Icm the wall.." Satu's brow creased.

"Suuure."
© Satu