Jailhouse Drosophila

A Story by Abishai100

Man offers prison-consciousness tales drawing dystopian persecution requiring exact resolution of federalism leaves.

A dystopian fiction referencing the iconography of Imaginary Prisons by Italian artist Giovanni Piranesi and drawn from the space-paranoia of the civilization anarchy series The Purge. Thanks for reading (Happy Memorial Day all),

DISCLAIMER: This work of social fiction/adaptation offers no ties to the referenced works of inspiration and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' interpretations).

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I found these immaculate series of brooding works of art by Italian Piranesi (18th-C.) concerning mind-spaces of imagined/hypothetical/erected wall-zones and labyrinth internal structures of wandering and constriction, fake prisons of Hell or purgatory or even aspiration/wishing-well thinking of the consciousness and wondered about my 21st-C. Earthling Selfie 'culture' of transit/lifestyle 'linked' streets-behavior commentary reflecting capitalism/consumerism intelligence for globalism-rhetoric (e.g., Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown). I started to think about my own suburbia-town residence haven as invocative of these Piranesi 'illusions' of space-and-cleats for the Ego (damn).

My name's Amlan Satan, and I'm an Algerian-American Bostonian-Catholic US-citizen and immigrant and started blogging about Piranesi symbols and stories about jailhouse-rock lyrics (e.g., Elvis). That's when I heard a stranger knocking on my door, drawn to my modernism interest, somewhat dystopian, somewhat consumerism-generic, about my curiosity about human Selfie-borders of the Ego (hmmm).

STRANGER: You've a laser-gun from Alien media you posted, eh?
ME: What do you want, Stranger?
STRANGER: You work with fake-jails and stuff, eh?

ME: What do you want, Stranger?

STRANGER: I want to persecute you as a modern Earth-witch, man!

ME: What do you want, Stranger?
STRANGER: Prisons-consciousness is the stuff of capitalism-indulgence.

ME: You mark me as a Burger King fool, Stranger.

STRANGER: Can you escape such a condemnation, fool?

ME: Gimme moment...I'll procure a miracle for the English (for pardon).

STRANGER: Selfie-like?

I procured for the Stranger at my door a special relic of Western culture, an Amercian Homeland football-fanfare culture memoir/toast to the cheerleader, handmaiden/angel of the field goals of competition iconography and the gritty cleats-and-grass of sport-intuitions. I explained that the print, like the Piranesi imaginary-prisons works I'd written about online, reminded Earthlings of the borders and colored-glass readings of Selfie-dodecahedrons (for the Ego!).