The co-video year is over

The infamous year is over and the happy twenties begin, The Great Gatsby, the lost generation, the era of jazz, which is now called perreo, etc.

Although lost generations there are quite a few, or many.

Postperreo, already cultu (r) al, feminist, social, narcissism of the you, new remixations, eighth-hand copy paste, new consumerisms of karma, which is almost free, except air and water, both already in the bag. What’s left

Schopenhauer, Spinoza…

The wind has set another record, and the fans themselves end up producing the wind, which comes and goes between them in a Faraday cage, we have reached perpetual motion, alchemy will be fashionable in the 21st, the ideal year to enjoy everything repressed, which that’s it.

Enjoy what is forbidden, recover what has never been seen, take advantage of what was thrown away.

The 21st, as soon as it is left, is going to be a perpetual party, with the wind and electric power buzzing almost free of charge for those clearings.

We can dedicate all the profits to corruption.

Empty Spain produces more watts than all of Africa and Alaska, and the Pegamoids together, Tuareg Spain, enlightened animism, inexplicable science by dint of AI: results that seem like miracles. Algorithms about to imagine the world. (In other countries, although all are Spain or yearn to be).

The four letters and the uracil still have everything to create and discover. Combinatorial freedom!

The co-video year is finally over, a round number 20-20, the micro, almost nano disaster, the oblique disaster (the virus flies sideways).

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A fine.

There is still a day and an eternity left.

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