Art by Mark Guim
Drew Millard has been to the Denver airport. If that shit’s not illuminati…
“Bro,” the text message read. It was from Charles Hamilton, and it was to his bro B.o.B. “Have you ever noticed there’s an all seeing eye on the dollar bill?”
“No,” B.o.B. responded. He was in the studio, hard at work on follow-ups to his classic songs such as “Nothin’ On You (Feat. Bruno Mars),” “Airplanes (Feat. Eminem and Haley from Paramore),” “Magic (Feat. Rivers Cuomo),” and “Both of Us (Feat. Taylor Swift).” He didn’t know why Charles Hamilton was texting him this, but he was intrigued. He’d never really thought about what was on a dollar bill at all before.
The three dots on B.o.B.’s iPhone did that little blinky flashy thing that indicated Charles Hamilton was composing another text.
“U should look again” the text from his bro said.
B.o.B. immediately whipped out a dollar bill and looked at it. Then he looked at it some more, and then his brain basically exploded all over his goddamn face. There it was, the all seeing eye of the Illuminati, looking right at him in his clearly-not-seeing-enough eyes.
“Fuck” B.o.B. texted to Charles Hamilton.
Another text: “FUCK”
And then a third: “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck”
A fourth: “What else haven’t they told me?!”
A fifth: “?!????????”
A sixth: “?!!??!?????!!!!!?????????????
A seventh: “?”
Charles Hamilton’s response blew B.o.B.’s mind all over his face for the second time in one text conversation: “ALL OF IT BRO”
He followed up: “Check out infowars.com it’ll put u onto some extremely good shit”
And so B.o.B. checked out Infowars and started clicking around. He learned about the lizard people, he learned about Bohemian Grove, he learned about the Obama Decepticon. He learned about the impending institution of martial law and ordered a survival kit. He read a plot summary of the documentary Loose Change. It was like a veil had been lifted from his face. For perhaps the first time in his life, B.O.B. felt that he was truly seeing the world for what it really was.
B.o.B. knew what he must do. He needed to unlearn everything he had ever learned, and then start over, with a new foundation built upon truth and not the lies the government had spoon-fed him as a child with their schools—schools? ‘What the fuck even was school?’, B.o.B. thought. ‘More like social control camps where politricktians castrated fertile minds and rendered them docile, impotent sheeple with no brain-balls.’
B.o.B. looked at his iPhone, and then his iMac. The front facing cameras. Shit. What if the music industry—or worse, the lizard people who ran the music industry along with everything else—were watching him right now? He had to get rid of it all, or else like that one scene in The Matrix, a bunch of guys in suits would put a metal bug into his belly button. Or was it his mouth? Or wait, it wasn’t his butt was it? It had been so long since B.o.B. had seen The Matrix. Too long, clearly, because he had just woken the goddamn motherfuck up from it.
Fortunately for B.o.B., Slaughterhouse was shooting a video in the alley out back, and there were plenty of flaming trash cans there. He threw all of his Apple Mind Control Suite products out of the window and into the fiery trash cans, causing the blaze to shoot towards the heavens, microchips and motherboards crackling.
Wait, B.o.B. thought, ‘What if they called it a motherboard because they want computers to birth our knowledge?’\ Are they trying to turn us all into robots?????’
“Fuck these computers!”, he yelled out of the window. “I am free!”
“Yaowa,” Joell Ortiz yelled to him from below, while Royce da 5’9” raised a bottle of Grey Goose the size of a small child as a way of saying hi. Joe Budden had been buried in his phone, tweeting about all of the ways that men and women acted different while at the club, that he had missed the entire incident.
B.o.B. returned to the notepad where he’d been writing his latest verse, wondering if the in-studio computer would still be able to run ProTools quickly after he downloaded Tor to it. He scratched out what he already had, and started on something new:
Do you control your mind or does your mind control you?
What’s really out there is very scary, boo!
Why is New York snowed in, same reason they moved Snowden
to Russia, the rush of, knowledge to my head
I know the government wants me dead
X-Files was a documentary
What’s a blog really meant to be?
A means of control, allow me to extol
The virtues of Tor, the world is flat, need I fuckin’ say more