--The following is a leaked email From: Jack Allison To: Unspecified (08/12/05)--

Another day in Texas. Father awoke me in the morning. “Breakfast?” Both a statement and a question. I obliged him and slid into both my favorite Korn band t-shirt and eventually the passenger seat of the Camry.

Texas. Much like the rental plate on the back of the Camry, had no shine to it. No luster. Like a dust-matted crucifix any meaning this state once had, any faith it had once inspired had been long since lost to the sands of time.

We drove for a few miles, discussing frivolous and inconsequential things like the upcoming, Wolfenstein RPG, Doom 3, and other consumerist bullshit I was not excited for. I did not have the heart to tell him I was above discussing such things, I was unshackled by the consumerist impulses that kept him and most others tied to the material realm. So instead I continued to play the enthusiastic “nerd” he’s come to expect and, no doubt, love.

As we got closer to the strip, various fast-casual dining restaurants bloomed on the horizon, displaying their garish signs and thereby giving us their best pitch. “Denny’s? Bob Evans?” My father spoke these names to me, entreating me to pick from which establishment we were to eat breakfast at.

Funny how these brands, these companies, choose human names as if a corporation could truly be a man, a friend. Like you or I.

I chose Denny’s, simply because I’ve heard their food is sub-par and I didn’t want to enjoy myself. I ordered a Grand Slam: 2 Buttermilk pancakes, 2 beef bacon strips, 2 eggs, and 2 sausages. I ate them all. Not because it was good, but because it was bad. And I wanted my body to know how my mind felt.

After breakfast, we drove to the Gaylord Convention center, father helped me unload my rig, told me where to meet him at the designated time, and left me in line for admittance into Quakecon. Once I was admitted in, I got my rig set up and said hello to a few acquaintances. I don’t call them friends, because I don’t trust easy.

When I had some time to myself I walked around and looked at everyone’s rigs: vapid testaments, vainglorious attempts at putting one’s mark on the world.

As I gazed upon some of those prideful marvels, those machines. I began to think how we too, as human beings are sometimes machines. Programmed to do what we’re told: Get married, have a dog, and if you’re in LA, get into show business.

How I loathe such an idea, the prospect of myself almost two decades from now, falling in line with the machine code. How terrible, horrible it would be to be involved in show business (especially a morning show. Detestable), share a home with a partner of whom I love and a small cute white dog named Kenny(weirdest name I could imagine).

The prospect of this future, so offensive to my sensibilities shook me to my very core, which led me to make a vow, right then and there in the middle of Quake-con and it was this: That such a future, would never, ever. Come to pass.

Topics Discussed On This Episode Include: Quakecon '05, The Combat Zone Reporters From 1/6, Help Havoc In The Hamptons, Bill Cosby's Return Tour

Airdate: 07/08/21 - https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1080377534