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An Amazingly Primitive Cult of Technology

by Danielle Olson

Well, it doesn't seem that long ago that a young, ambitious, starry-eyed pilot, headlining in his first feature-length two-reeler for RKO, happened to crash-land on a deserted island somewhere off the coast of west Palm Beach. I don't have to tell you he was plenty scared.

A handsome young film star with the world before his feet, so to speak, was not quite prepared for the life he had to endure until help finally arrived.

The innocent natives who found our hero and nursed his wounds told him of many strange and wonderful things.

"There is only one problem with the merchandise that is on sale here."

These days the island has changed in many ways. The once wonderfully ignorant natives are now sophisticated salespeople and merchandisers.

Tourists come here in droves to buy up the small portable electro doo-dad thingys. The cheap price and bright colors make up for the fact that the things don't perform the functions that they should.

"None of it works."

It's a mystery to me why people come here to buy this crap. It's pretty and glitzy, but useless. I got something that looks like of tablet with a big screen and a couple of knobs on the front, but all it does is draw a black, scribbled line when you dial it. You turn it upside down to erase.

Their 'mystery soldier' taught them all about capitalism and free markets. I wanted to speak with their head priest, but he was off at a board of directors meeting in France.

"Stuff just looks sleek and shiny."

And I didn't get any pictures. The camera I bought didn't work at all. It just shows 3D slides of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

Wanted - people who used to want to be rock stars; to repackage raw meat; no health check; Apply #86372