Repo Man spends his life getting into tense situations. Kicking people in the chest in the thickness of the mosh, only to realize those people are pre-pubescent. Crafting firearms out of PVC pipes and duct tape to make statement against your cult leader prime minister. Carving belligerent messages into your forehead with the shards of broken Youth Korps and Necros records. The modern world hates the tension. Your phone is literally reading your mind and telling you what to buy. You don't have to leave your house to buy it. You don't even have to look at the person (or robot dog) bringing you the product you just bought. You didn't even have to give your credit card information, your bio-data that is linked to your bank account was already read from the pulse your phone felt in your hand. The grey goo nanotechnology takeover is inevitable, and it's going to cocoon you in a pillowy blanket of catatonic sloth. It's in your hands. Are you going to throw your hands up and get arrested by the algorithm, finally conquered by the half-baked goggle-box do-gooders? Or are you gonna order some sushi and not pay for it?
-Possessed Fanzine
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