Month: September 2021

I don’t want to take anything away from you young kids, especially not Z, you people have been dealt a rough-ass hand that approximately started with the World Trade Center falling on your heads, and pretty much ended with the the planet finding out they had just been genomically-raped by a bunch of well-meaning maniacs.

But this isn’t about y’all. This is about you young folks who are not X and are not Z, but rather the generation of violently-gifted Mozarts who decided that everyone older than you — other than your parents and grandparents — should be made to suffer in a Jesus-like pose but after having been accused of things like rape and murder … y’know, the stuff that doesn’t play so well in Peoria.

I have no intentions to discredit a single one of you. You in fact are smarter, more athletically-gifted, more community-centered than an X could possible be. But there is one thing that you don’t get to take to the grave with you. Your spoiled-asses didn’t invent being “woke.” As a representative from my inebriated tribe of Xens, I will now give you one tiny little example of what kind of juice we were running when we were your age.

Yeah, them Depression Era motherfuckers, they ran hooch, and hippies ran cocaine, or weed, depending on the quantity of the initial investment, and my great-uncle’s generation ran peaches up from Grand Junction in the back of a Model T pickup over the fucking Continental Divide on tires the width of a fat tire bike. And those 1800s-era folks, they could reach orgasmic attainments from the taste of those peaches, because they had sucked up rare and unimaginably delicious nutrients from that soil. But we didn’t run anything like that, and we don’t run whatever you run, I guess the vapes and weed and brewed and fermented hooch. And that’s good that you younger folks run hooch just like those guys like my Great Uncle Shep who used to haul those peaches in that fucking Model T, but you know what, back then, a gentleman just simply might not be able to procure a Chevy truck, and he had to make do with what he had, because the alternative was pulling the peaches with my grandpa’s draft horse. And my grandpa loved that draft horse, he wasn’t about to lose that horse on some hare-brained scheme to run peaches over the Continental Divide. Even now, in this era of being genomically-raped by well-meaning maniacs, I say that my gramps made the right choice. That horse was far too valuable on the short beer runs from Tivoli, to likely lose her completely on a Rabbit Ear’s Pass run. Holy mother of Hell, she was a beautiful horse. And in the end, Great Uncle Shep was forced into a new kind of business, one that involved trucks, and that made him a wealthy man. But my grandpa got to go not too long after his last horse, and that is a truly wealthy man. Am I right cowboys?

But us X, we don’t run hooch, or chemicals, or things grown from the ground like peaches and indica and sativa or whatever you young folks call that stuff.

Y’see, we ran something purely metaphysical. All that half-spin stuff that every generation other than our’n ran, my generation, we just didn’t even have the coin for that. We were truly broke in every sense of the word. You young folks might not see this now, but back after WWII, a lot of the smartest, suavest, people. They fucked like bunnies, because they were gorgeous humans, just like you younger ones. And those gorgeous humans made your parents. But us Xens? we were made by the ones who fucked up. The ones who didn’t plan their shit too well, the ones who ended up working the register at the TG&Y, hoping and praying that Albertson’s would actually call her back, because that was a union job and it paid better than $1.50 an hour, which wasn’t total shit money back then.

Those were the busted ones, they had us. And y’see, the broke-ass kids had to make their own entertainment. So I made my own entertainment. And this, is where I tell you of the kind of metaphysical, bosonic, integral-spin mind hooch that we used to run. After I describe the story, you will understand why you Millennials have a lot to learn from those broken punk rock hillbillies who you call Generation X.

The story is one of those little glitch-exploitation devices that have been known to bankrupt corporations and lead to lives filled with horridly delightful memories of the insane. A lot of us hacked bosons with computers, but some of us, we hacked bosons with the beauty of artistry itself. More to come, pronghorns and prongvags …

The emerging concern of synthetic nucleotide that are inserted into DNA and especially RNA backbones is that of the “chiral dislocation.” Specifically, the chirality of the DNA and the (reverse chirality of the) RNA comes form the torsional stress on the nucleotide on the genetic backbone. In a natural nucleotide molecular bond to the backbone, the molecular structure of the molecules creates a torsional stress on the backbone, which tends to comply with the Newtonian Stationary Action Principle, where the manifold system of the backbone to the approximate center of the DNA nucleotide and the full length of the RNA nucleotide, creates a Laplacian, where there are no local minima. The chirality of the genetic backbone can then be calculated with a high degree of linearity and few — if any — dislocations, which would show as a “kink in the wire.”

When inserted into the RNA or DNA backbone, synthetic proteins need not follow this linear manifold, because energy is added to the system through the human engineering and synthetic process. The potential danger of these dislocations is that the surface energies of the dislocations can and do manifest below the Kelvin barrier for the protein molecules, which — like a prion — can lead to unintended effects on natural protein structures.

I tend to put a video at the end of these things, this one is amusing, but it shouldn’t detract from the real concerns of chiral dislocations which can result from a bunch of gung-ho genetic scientists who have about as much experience characterizing the smaller-than-Kelvin-barrier structures as they have in rebuilding a Fuji 488.