You draw five cards.
The first goes into the slot of the spirits who live inside the castle that is your computer.
The card is the Altar. A foreboding presence manifests on the object you are holding. It is you; you are a part of it. When you hold it close to your heart, membranes inside your body relax, relieved of tension accumulated over the years.
Fortune: “We don’t move our bodies anymore.”
The second goes into the slot of the illusion, which is tangentially related to the fallacy of individuality.
The card is the Freedom from Virality. The touch of an insect wing will be sweeter than the taste in your mouth. Submission has long ceased to be an option; rather, the Embrace is all that is left to you.
Fortune: “Beware of businesses; they might cause you to haemorrhage milk.”
The third goes into the slot of the removal, the way of escaping this current suffering into a new limbo of apathy.
The card is the Arclight Triad. Insecurity follows the disconnect between the desire of escaping and the refusal of accepting any line of flight. There is no escape, yet, we are retreating.
Fortune: “A dark dot shall be placed on top of each letter of your name.”
The fourth goes into the slot of the object, which is brutal which is sometimes existence.
The card is the Truth or Dare. There is nothing else to say: here we are, holding hands, staring into the abyss of phlegm and hard, cold cash. To every question you ask, the only possible answer is: “let’s dance, boys”.
Fortune: “Ignore vibrators; prefer anal beads.”
And the fifth is free floating, the glass bead or prism that informs all the previous cards.
The card is The Blurring of His Eyes When He Looks at Me. You re-read everything the cards have told you. Change incoming. Brace, brace, brace. You look at your inbox with suspicion. The crown will arrive soon.
Fortune: “You shall meet a man who will die after speaking to Saint Sophia the Merciful about the latest real estate bubble.”
You collect the cards and put them back into their box.
- Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari. 2011. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Translated by Brian Massumi. Repr. London: Continuum.
- García Márquez, Gabriel. 2006. Cien años de soledad. 7. ed. Debolsillo 354. Barcelona: Debolsillo.