Fried brains of monkey in an African village where AID’s was born. A sort of tourist attraction and a talking point for homosexuals brandishing the fact that it wasn’t he who fucked the ape. The Hyasuazi tribe had never seen white man. 18-hour plane ride, 5 hours by car, 3 by boat, 4 days walk, into the foliage of bullet ants and tarantula eggs. Into the tribal cluster fuck of skulls on sticks and human skin teepees, dancing drum beat machine gun. In walked stereotype tan explorer hat and vest with tinsel shinny green bean legs and suntan lotion; the tribe prolapsing their eyes, disbelief aw and stun. Thinking they have seen god. All the white man could muster was a hello, and instant after the whole cluster chanted hyllowhyllowhyllowhyllowhyllowhyllowhyllowhyllow.
On his first day there he introduced pornography, the second, money, the third day he introduced them to television. On the fourth day, the tribe had forgotten true religion and started feeding their daughter’s virgin intestines to the television VCR box praying for mail order wives and penis pumps. The white man left with a smile, having brought civilization to those degenerates, thinking the world still has hope.
Cycivilis Day is the stage name for a twenty-two- year-old. He wakes up most days, but somedays he doesn’t. He lives in the Xanax-Adderall- OxyContin Age of Man. He writes Dystopian Satire because he lives in The Satirical Dystopia World of 72inch brainwashing devices and green burning gas chambers. Sincerely.