an apex tyrant of humor
(probably a tiktok clown with a verified checkmark)
decrees what’s "funny,"
polices laughter like a dictator in oversized shoes.

but laughter is guerrilla resistance.
it cracks concrete, slips through firewalls,
infects boardrooms with snorts.

the real monopoly
is
an a.i type of
sick-fred to sick-it-come comedians trained on
sox-ok
and
sex-talk datasets,
an algorithms that auto-generate "hilarious"
while the last human giggles are
under an oak tree.

maybe?
I say may!
bee!!
(a quantum one, buzzing in 5d)
talking yourself to see it
for yourself is the cure.
(to escape being the one of a matrix
reloaded 12456 times.
i mean the medicine,
one needs to heal it out.
carved it one bit,
and hollowed it out 5 q bits left to the right.
by being with some amazonian or australian aborigines.
(please do not infect them with your software databases,
and
your hardware's toys.
take less from civilization and experience being there,
as if it is a now urgent experience.)
and that is only
how startups sparked to existence in the south.