The mammalian knob turns down the anthropo-affected habit of the campy, the kitschy, linguistic beer goggles and the ironic wink. The hymns rotted away so we sing the carbon date. The hominids were not invited, so the jelly fish click ‘interested’. The Singularity knob turns up while humming to the tasks of its house cleaning. Peep through the key hole to see the silicon solipsystem at work. That gloryhole is a USB port, your meatware is obsolete. How does 4-on-the-floor work in 4 dimensional space time? Most planets make instrumental music. Listen to anthems for the unoccupied universe, the other 99.99999999999999 percent. Can slime-molds carry their own tune? Make Alternative Music with pheromones. Hear lonely mating calls of the first tardigrade walking the surface of Mars. Yodels echo across a canny valley, from cheap android knock-offs awkwardly mimicking the wet bios of analog song birds. The Plastiscene era begins spinning in the center of the Pacific. Try the Cambrian Explosion as a tape loop. We thought, therefore we were. Our time is up. Mark the period in the last chapter as a pale blue dot. The roaches get the VIP room at midnight. Last call for you, monkey-boy.

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