I was crunching down a cheesy, beefy burrito and slurping down an enchilada and a spicy beverage. I was in Mexico. A man on a mission. You see, I was sick of paying my student loan debt, and I decided to get Mexico to pay for it.



I was an intern for Fox News. Specifically, I worked on Bill O'Reilly's No Spin Zone program. Things used to go pretty well there. Talked about tides going in, tides going out. Being in combat zones for the sake of political commentary. Ann Coulter. Cheesy, beef burrito. Anyway, poor ol' Billo went insane in the membrane while discussing the killer bean men from Neptune or some shit. The episode ultimately didn't air. They fired me and paid me hush money, in the hopes that I'd never say anything, but, too bad: 'Anything!' Anyway, as you may have guessed, my financial slavery wasn't the real reason I was in Mexico. I was south of the border to... investigate, actually. To investigate what made my boss go so Doritos Locos on us.

I made the mistake of drinking the tap water. 'Montezuma's Revenge', as the cool kids say. After days of crapping my brains out, I found my first clue. A retired government crony informed me of a backdoor meeting between Bill and former Mexican President Vicente Fox. I tried to arrange a meeting with Mr. Fox, but the Mexican equivalent of the Secret Service threw piping hot salsa in my eyes when I attempted to break into his McMansion. Back home to South Carolina I went, disappointed in my lack of findings.

Having little else to do, I played some NES games to help me get my mind off things. I was playing Battle of Olympus, but Hades stabbed me in the balls and I was dead. "What a shitload of fuck!" I screamed, giving the television the finger. I was wearing an eyepatch to cover my burnt out eye. Perhaps my lack of 3D vision was interfering with my ability to succeed at video games. Realizing that I could still watch TV with efficacy, I rummaged through my VHS recordings for something to watch. Hannity. Megyn Kelly. Red Eye. I settled on an O'Reilly Factor episode that I missed out on during my Mexican Vacation. My heart skipped a joyous beat when my former boss and mentor came on screen.

"Bill O'Reillyyyyyy! Thanks for watching", he began, with his usual look of sincerity and conviction in his beautiful blue eyes. "No Lives Matter. That is today's top story." ...The fuck? "We've been hearing that blue, black, and red lives matter, but at the end of the day, nobody matters. Life is inherently meaningless, and if I wasn't being paid a lot of money, I wouldn't even get up in the morning. I've cheated on my wife a number of times in hope of finding true love, but the joke was on me because 'true love' is a blue pill construct. I've read a lot of Heidegger, Renaldo, and Nietchze, so I know. But what do you know? Nothing. Absolutely Nothing. And for that, I hate your rotten, putrid, caveman guts. Try opening a philosophy book sometime, you plebian asshole." I blinked. My mouth gaped. This was...weird. This was not the Bill O'Reilly I knew and loved!

"Joining me now is tonight's guest, green party candidate Jill Stein."

Jill Stein appeared on camera, but something about her seemed... strange.. She was her usual bright-smiled self, but the tone of her skin was... slightly off. Tinted sort of a light green? Not inherently sickly, though. "Hey! How are you, Bill?", Dr. Stein greeted our disheveled host. "Go fuck yourself", Billo barked back. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with Mr. O'Reilly.

They began debating something. I don't know what it was. I have ADD, so I stopped paying attention to the television at this point. "Hey, one eye! Pay as much attention to my program as you do your virginity, you disheveled little shit!" Well, if that's what he wanted--wait... how did he know I was watching!? "I once ate a whole can of dog food", Dr. Stein volunteered to the television audience. "I thought it was refried beans." "And no one should judge you for that. After all, President Obama once ate a dog." ...What the fuck was I watching?

I got up to turn the tape off, but as I pressed the power button, I felt a zap of electricity race through my fingertip and into my spine. I yelped like a damaged dog as my body hit the floor, disheveled. "You let the body hit the floor, shit for brains!", Mr. O'Reilly shrieked at me. ...I was scared.

"So, as I was saying: pot sales and consumption should be legal", Dr. Stein asserted. "Yeah, sure: and Curious George was a human man.", O'Reilly quipped back. I ...I couldn't believe what I was watching. Dr Stein stuck her fingers in her ears, shouted 'I'm not listening', and... she turned into a marijuana plant!!

I could use some medical marijuana at this point for my injured spine, as well as my startled spirit. It was no use, though: I had no pot, and also I couldn't get up. "Now for tonight's memo: simulacrum. Wikipedia--the people's Communist dictionary--defines it as 'an image or representation of a person or thing.' It goes back to the idea that nothing is new, and our personalities are just the aggregation of our environments. Nothing more, nothing less. Talking Points believes that all of life is deterministic, and none of us make any real decisions. So maybe it's not your fault that you've never had sex with a girl before, you greasy ass Arthur Fonzarelli imbecible." ...Okay? "Have you tried viewing life through a postmodern lens before? Well, you can't. Post is a prefix that means after the fact, and spacetime are nothing more than human perception, you ungrateful little liberal douche. You can't win, because winning is nothing more than a human perception." The camera zoomed into Mr. O'Reilly's top half of his head, now. A Vein was horrifying bulging out of his head. He sighed. "...Let's fail. Let's fail. Let's fail, together, at life. And that... is tonight's memo."

Bill scowled for a little. Then he scowled. It was just so...numbingly sad. Maybe that was how Bill O'Reilly lost his mind. He read too many nihilistic philosophy books, and now he possessed a disheveled, postmodernistic soul. I wished there was something I could do for him. The camera zoomed out and split into two panes again. It was the pot plant Stein again, but...disturbingly, some of her leaves had been plucked off by an older, Caucasian male. I squinted at the television set to get a closer look, and I...I couldn't believe who it was! It was libertarian presidential candidate Gary Johnson! "Do you mind?", Johnson remarked, smoking a piece of Dr. Stein's leafy corpse.

I was still fallen, and I could not get up. A television commercial came on for a service called 'FreePainReport.com', that apparently told you if you were in pain or not. But I already know that I was. Because I was dying from an electrified spine. And a broken heart.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in!", I screamed. "Could this person be my personal savior?" I alertedly listened to the doorknob turn, as the person behind my front door revealed themself to be...

Me. But not just me. It was a blank, scary, shadowy me. Like Shadow Link from 'Zelda II: The Adventure of Link'. But I couldn't beat this boss by backing into a corner. I had the distinct prediction that I was about to die. Shadow Man stepped into me and possessed my soul. I was spiritually deceased, now.

I woke up the next day inside of a dingy basement. It looked like a medieval tower, or something. There was a projector drawn down from the wall. I darted my eyes over to it, knowing not what else to do, and not even giving a shit that my injured eye had been restored now.

It was a film of the mythological Greek king, Sisyphus. He was rolling a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll back down and hit him back. Someway, somehow, I could tell that he was being physically forced to do this. In Size 22, blood red Comic Sans font, a message displayed at the bottom of the screen: "What if Sisyphus is happy?"

"But ... he isn't.", I muttered to myself.. With that, a bright light flashed and my wounds were healed. And now, I narrate this story... like an eternally pushed boulder.


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