/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.16398636]

Can burgerpunk really be subversive in any way that hasn’t already capitulated to capitalism?

[Anonymous No.16398653]

what exactly is burgerpunk

[Anonymous No.16398660]

>>16398636
I hate burgerpunk variants so much, the only real one is burgerpunk and I detest that except for its real lived experience which we ideally know today(think Sam Hyde)

[Anonymous No.16398662]

>>16398653
It's simply acknowledging that America under neoliberalism is fundamentally dystopian.

[Anonymous No.16398680]

Chapter 1
Jerry Pomade swiped his micro tablet into work. It was to deliver pizza. People loved pizza, and people loved not leaving the house for pizza. Jungle.co could deliver anything you wanted these days straight to your door and Mac Burger serviced the world’s stomach, but Pizza Max stayed in business across the National United Corporation Country because of people’s desire for pizza. People love pizza.
He was the best delivery driver at his location. Admiral Crunch’s Northern ex-TexanTerritory of the NUCC, known a decade ago as Dallas, was one of the lower ranked hubs for entrepreneurs and despots. Who knew that the programmer kid and the homeless man shared such a love for pizza.

“BeBop, who the fucko needs a gosh’n pizza?”

“Fuckin’a Pomade, down on the bulovard, the kickin’ bitchin’ workspace is havin’ a shiggy diggy pip party.” Shouted BeBop over the post radio silence of the Pizza Max #12228 location. “Twelve pies ready to be loaded and pooped off broski.”

“Shit fuck you old cougar bear, I don’t even get a minute to myself!” Pomade said sarcastically. He was at work. Pizza Max demanded every minute be accounted for, otherwise his NUCC credits would be covered in loan shark trackers, and he didn’t want any of those privatefag bounty hunters sent out by the courts. He flipped from his tablet the Micro Pizza employment app and got the drone to pick up the pizza. People love pizza. The three heating bags, each with four pies in them were picked up by the Jungle.co drone and put into his self-driving car.

Pomade was a driver, his father had taught him at a young age how to use an automatic, and how to drive by himself. He was proud of this, but since the advent of self-driving cars by corps like Jungle.co and PDF, driving your own car has become a misdemeanor, an accident caused by someone driving a car themselves is a first-degree felony.

Pomade’s 1992 Civic was modded out with two modes. Self-Drive, how he got to work, and Auti-Mati, for when he felt the need for the thrills of control in chaos. He loved driving against the AI of the other cars, they attempted to predict him with logic, and he gave them a heaping handful of incompetent and selfish driving tactics.

“Fuck-a-roo, lets go!” he shouted as he flipped on the Auti-Mati mode of his baby. His newly installed panel screen projected directions onto his windshield. His engine revved and he peeled out of the massive 10-acre parking lot of Pizza Max.

Ever since self-driving cars had been introduced, stop and go traffic was no longer a thing, but the increasing population led to over congestion of the road ways anyway, everyone moved at a constant speed of 5-10 miles.

Too many people in this world. If he didn’t make it in 2 hours to the party, the recipients would get a ten percent discount, and he would be getting his third strike against him. Es no Bueno, and Pomade fucking hated Buenos.

[Anonymous No.16398687]

>>16398680
His Civic ripped through the access road and onto the freeway, heading to sector 46 of the north east side of Admiral Crunch’s Northern ex-TexanTerritory of the NUCC. Regularly an hour drive, but it was rush hour, every car was moving at a ripping four miles per hour.

Jesus christ’o fuckbois, how am I gonna get through this? He turned up his comm displays and rolled down his windows, an older technology not afforded in newer models. His speakers vibrated as on of his classic favorite dadrock came on over the pirated internet radio station he paid a monthly subscription for. It was Maroon 5. This shit was his jam, but he never would have let any of his friends, if he even had any – his Lip Service profile showed he had 72, most of which were from his first years of corporate self-paced educational supplementation that he didn’t talk to – know that he listened to such embarrassing and old muzak.

The ensuing gridlock passed by as if it was an old man in a constant state of inebriation, it continued living but without the need for purpose, feeling, or responsibility. He wasn’t staying on schedule. He needed to pop it in gearz.

He safely changed lanes eight times over to the far-left lane, bumped his car onto the barrier space, and sped down the way, surpassing the amorphous blob of self-driving drivel. Fuck yeah, 23 miles per hour, a personal best.

“Fuck-a-reeper, here comes your peperoni peeper!” he shouted in a holler, to himself, in his car.

Maroon 5 blared past all the boomerfied millennials, grey with age and lost hope, dreaming of change yet accepting their place in Admiral Crunch’s Northern ex-TexanTerritory of the NUCC.

Pomade knew of a brave man who once said, “We live in a society.” Boy do we ever. As he trucked along. What the hell is a truck? Thinking about the society in which he lived, he didn’t notice the Jungle.co private enforcement drones that had spotted him overhead. Their brown and red sirens started screaming out; that finally caught his attention.

With a twist of the steering wheel left, a break, a quick tap of acceleration, then a hard right, he was able to force his way in-between two self driveies. He flipped his switch, turning off auti mati mode and pulled a plugged leaver on his car roof. While undetectable to the human eye, the pulling of that leaver set in motion a series of small raspberry pi’s running scripts leading to an electro magnetic disrupter that blurred his car from the rest.

“Stupid frickin’ droneo pimps.” He muttered, to himself. They flew right past him without notice.
He arrived at the location with only two minutes to spare. It was time to deliver pizza. Everybody loves pizza.

[Anonymous No.16398690]

>>16398662
I love that I was born into this era, in this country. I could have been born in a peaceful time, with no conflict: literal death. Instead, I live in America! Everything is up in the air!

The nation's power is weakening: will it stand firm or will it crumble? Ethnic tensions rise: will we overcome them? The long shadow of ecological crisis looms: will we save the Earth? Dystopian technology is being implemented: will we stop it or will it consume us? Win or lose, at least I get to see things play out. It is a blessing to live in interesting times.

[Anonymous No.16398701]

>>16398690
The difference between its greatness or atrocity is whether YOU can do anything in it, or is it practically predistined to go to ruin and evil??? Be a hero, be a cause, go to a war which you define.

[Anonymous No.16398719]

>>16398636
seems to me anything that isn't marketable is subversive at this point, eh

[Anonymous No.16398746]

This sphere of a woman had been screaming at the employee now for six minutes and twenty-one seconds. She had kept count by looking at the clock directly ahead of him. It was a sick joke that they had designed the front station to face the clock. They reminded every employee of the minutes wasted standing and serving.

The dark man in line behind her had kind eyes, and his daughter was too busy staring at the other children in line and the display for new toys to notice the screaming woman making a scene in the middle of the order area.

“I asked for extra pickles on both o’ these sandwiches and y’all gave me mustard instead! I demand pickles!

“Mam’ I distinctly remember you asking for must-”

“How dare you talk back to me the customer is always right! I want to talk to your manager you little shit! Who taught you how to treat your elders?”

The man in line behind this crazed woman held his mouth shut, but the employee could see the defeat in his face. The sadness stemming from the dark reality that human beings like this existed in the world. The employee walked around back to the small managers office behind the grill line. The manager had his legs up and was on the phone. The office was small and cramped with shelves going all the way up to the ceiling.

“Yeah, baby, I swear I’m at work, I was gonna call you.” Said the manager, rubbing his crotch after he had touched his well-trimmed, military-grade moustache.

“Hey, we got a lady complaining about-” but the employee was cut off.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on. What do you want kid?”

“There’s a lady. Complaining about pickles.” The employee said without a sign of emotion beyond animosity.

“Take care of it, can’t you see I’m busy? Hey babe, I swear.”

The employee started the long walk back to the front counter. The constant sizzling of fries and burger patties emanated from the long line of machinery. The employee suffered minor grease burns from the incompetent fry cook on shift who always forgot to scrape off the grills after cooking a batch of patties. Negligent morons dotted this well-oiled machine.

The employee returned to the sphere. “Ma’am the manager is busy at the moment, but I swear I can take care of any issue, and this one is not refundable. Next in line please.”

[Anonymous No.16398747]

>>16398653
>>16398662
It's more specifically a satirical spotlighting of the inane and sterile culture of Atomic Age - present day American advertising juxtaposed against the stark griminess of a concrete choked, nutrient starved, banal day to day existence.

[Anonymous No.16398752]

>>16398746
The man with kind eyes took a step forward and the screaming woman lurched over the counter and grabbed the employee, barely scrapping onto his nametag, ripping it off her polo shirt.

“Now look you little shit,” the sphere screamed over the counter, her belly flaps molding to it, “ you go back and get your manager, and I’m gonna have you fired, or you can get me sum’ them burgers but with extra pickles this time. Do your god damn job!”

The employee looked down at her shirt. She knew she was going to have to buy a replacement polo, and it was possible that this woman would refuse to return her nametag. That would be another ten dollars mark up for her uniform costs, which at that point, were already presumably high due to all the makeup shifts she had to take over for the incompetent grill and prep staff. This had been her sixth double in a row. She had worked fourteen days straight. Her manager refused to give him any off time, and he was the only one able to fill in for the huge swaths of absences that had been happening lately. She was done. The sphere inhaled, preparing for another onslaught of southern charm.

“I swear I ordered two burgers with pickles, and don’t give me any of them thin pickles, I know you skimp on the pickles, I want extra!”

“Look here you fat sack of shit,” the employee began, “You ordered two big ass burgers with mustard, two cups of water which I have seen you, with my very own peepers, use for regular cola, and an extra-large French fry with extra salt. That was your order. It was totaled to 16.45. If you look here at this screen, you illiterate whore, it will show you that this was your order. I put it into the system, a few clickity clacks. I remember struggling to listen to your fat lips move and groove. And you’ve now been here for nearly eight minutes of everyone’s time flapping your giblets about seeking attention your ex husband or abusive stepfather never gave you. Now sit down. Eat your fucking second burger like a big girl and go be a cunt to someone else.”

The sound in the restaurant had fallen deftly silent with only the sound of children playing in the ball pit in the distance clattering about. The manager had appeared right at the last spoken sentence.

“Ma’am, I dearly apologize about this. Here, let me get you a twenty-dollar gift card redeemable at all locations of Der Burger. Please.”

The woman hadn’t said a word, and the line didn’t move. The manager had printed out a receipt and grabbed a gift card from behind the table.
“Here you go ma’am, have a wonDERful day!” the manager turned to the employee.

“Kid, you’re fired.”

[Anonymous No.16398757]

How about a genre that imagines capitalism as utopic for once? Its fiction

[Anonymous No.16398762]

>>16398752
The employee stared at the manager for a moment. Taking in the absolute absurdity of the situation in which she, the reasonable employee, was getting let go over a lying sack of pickles.

“Fuck off you pedo gabber, you wouldn’t know flip-a-dip leadership if it punched you in your fat knocker, cunt.” The employee pulled her fist back and stopped. The manager flinched. She threw her hat on the table with a twirl and walked out.

“Y-yes, hello, Mr. Manager, can we get a number 2 and a kid’s meal?” said the man with the kind eyes.

The now ex-employee waltzed out the door, holding it open for the elderly couple that was coming in.

“Have a wonDERful day you two!” she said with a smirk. The hot breeze pushed her hair out of her face and made her self-aware of just how bathed in sweat she was. The gargantuan parking lot sprawled for hundreds of yards on all directions. She started her hike to the employee section across the hill. She took out her phone and shot a text to her roommate asking her if she was home and slipped the phone back into her back pocket.

She approached her 2003 Honda Accord. Its red paint was chipping all over and the roof was completely covered in rust. She manually unlocked the door and jumped in. The dash was cracked and the only thing that looked new was the stereo system panel. She plugged her phone in and attempted to start the engine twice before it shot on the third time.

[Anonymous No.16398765]

>>16398757
Capitalism is utopia, and you're living in it.

[Anonymous No.16398780]

>>16398747
so cyberpunk but dishonest and pretentious

[Anonymous No.16398781]

“Order up, bitch boy!” said BeBop into his portable communication device. Pomade was already almost back from his delivery. Pizza max always had to keep him on the grind.

“Ten Four sicko!” shouted Pomade, as he exited the off ramp and pulled into the bay of the parking lot. “Ko Konga, Rwanda. Lets get this show on the road!” The drone was already waiting with the fresh pies. His ride got loaded up and he was out before he was even in.

Fuel pumped into the skies as he kicked back and let the audi mati take this one. He popped up his InterTuber account and pulled up a recommended video as his car drove along at twenty miles per hour. A fat man appeared on screen after an introductory clip. He began to speak.

“Hey Robbie Robert Family! Remember to like and subscribe! You can buy this cool new merch shirt we just put up on our store, or you can provide a monthly donation to keep this channel going!” A picture of a skull appeared next to him.

“But now to todays topic. Have you looked outside recently? I have. There are scrum on the streets. Homeless immigrants wanting to steal your jobs. Wanting to take your opportunity away from you. Can you believe that? I know it’s hard to hear but its true. Facts don’t care about your feelings, bucko.”
Pomade got bored of this and skipped to the next video. It was of a woman wearing nothing but feathers with elongated features. Purple lights flashed on her face.

“Babies, have you ever felt the need to rage against the machine? Darling I always feel this way! But you may ask, “Gabby, you profit off the machine! How can you sit here any complain about it?” Well in response I ask you this, how did we get our rights to adopt dogs after The King passed a bill to ban it? We used our cellphones and InterTuber! That’s how, babies. We use the tools at hand, even if they were created under this machine.”

Boring. He flipped to the next one.

[Anonymous No.16398787]

>>16398781
“Have you ever thought about how cubes, are just rectangles, but less fat?”

Next.

“Kittens are part of the Jewish question, in this Fred Talk I will-”

Next.

“I will now repeat the phrase “It’s Pizza Time” one thousand times.”

Perfect.

“It’s pizza time.”

Pomade closed his eyes for a little bit. He had been working all day. He was tired.

“It’s pizza time.”

He didn’t look at the clouds above, but he heard a chirping. Droneo. About forty of em’. Flying in fast, way faster than he could go in this deadlock.

“It’s pizza time.”

He sat up fast. The next off ramp was four lanes over about half a mile up. He put his blinker on. Good thing he had filled up on blinker fluid recently.

“It’s pizza time.”

He flipped on his disrupter setup. Checked his map. He’d only be off by about ten minutes with the detour.

“It’s pizza time.”

The drones came closer, hovering a few yards above the parking lot of vehicles.

“It’s pizza time.”

Pomade clenched the steering wheel, one lane over. Two more to go. Fuck-a-roo.

“It’s pizza time.”

One more to go. The drones were just a few feet above him.

“It’s pizza time.”

He was over all the way. He sped forward and pulled down the exit. He looked behind him to see the drones collectively pick up an eco-friendly brand vehicle. Anything that ran off electricity for fuel wasn’t allowed on the freeway. What an idiot.

“It’s pizza time.”

He was able to exit and flipped a righty on the underpass. He was finally at the apartment complex for the drop up.

“It’s pizza time.”

“Your damn right it’s pizza time.” said Pomade. He flipped the video off. The pizza boxes were a patchy dark brown. Good. “The oil is just right. C’mon, lets bro-on.” he said to himself, out loud, in the empty parking lot. Straight on up to the seven flights of foot poppers down on to the drop off.

[Anonymous No.16398794]

>>16398757
>get paid $2k to stay home and not work because a simulacra pandemic is occuring
>live off a steady diet of Domino's taco pizza and Monster energy drinks
>have all needs delivered to your door within two days
>infinite porn and rhizomatic camgirls
The utopia is here

[Anonymous No.16398802]

In the year 2005 the McDonald’s Corporation’s legal counsel sent a memo to the board, informing them of the current state of Supreme Court jurisprudence. The In-house counsel, having outsourced their actual work, spent their time crafting an argument that, because corporations had rights as regular persons, the McDonald’s corporation could run for president. It was put to a vote by the board and approved by the vast majority of shareholders that it would conduct a pilot test of running for president.

The same memo provided that, because money was considered speech, they could, in fact, provide a free small drink with proof of voting for Mcdonald’s.

The election of 2008 was by far the most one sided election in the history of the united states. Under the new Party, Mcdonald’s ushered in a new era of corporate control. Leading to what is now known as…

BurgerPunk

************

“Hey Jen, why not log on past midnight and help us develop this cool new Burgerpunk aesthetic?” he whined through the McChatApp as he poured himself another few fingers of bottom shelf margarita mix, his sunglasses adjusting themselves, somehow nerdily. Leftenant Jackson was not his favorite rum, and that was all they had left before the bombardiers came to restock the McBooze Drive-Thru car wash. He didn’t have enough Buddy Bucks to pick up the tequila or tRiple sec to go along with it so he decided on pure vitriolic hate to get through the bottle.
He ripped a fat, sick cloud from his Hondo Vape box. “Couuuuuuuuuuuugh pfft huyik,” he coughed pitifully before burping up his margarita mix. His almond tomato cheesy surprise vape juice didn’t mix well with straight margarita mix, who would have guessed.

[Anonymous No.16398824]

Burgerpunk has been described as the aesthetic reconciliation of the post-modernist individual recognizing the cognitive dissonance between the vast nature of corporate service-based globalization and the individualist nature of consumption forced upon them by the very nature and propaganda of their capitalist benefactors. The genre's backdrop explores the conflict between traditional american sensibilities inflated to a caricature by exaggerated use of freeway systems, suburban growth, and franchise based food products against the cynical nature of the average american blooming into a genuine need for individualized and personalized culture after slowly exchanging their ancestor's cultural heritage for their own force-fed culture of ease of access and frugality. Issues of hopelessness, automation, and complacency contrast the information provided through constant access to media and propagandized geopolitical news. The genre itself, becoming a meta commentary on other fantasy or science fiction based genres by using the actual occurring landscape as the basis for literary escape.

As a metastatic reorientation of Burgerpunk, post-neo-Burgerpunk emerged under the umbrella of commodification for the Burgerpunk sensibility in mid-2019. Post-Burgerpunk asks questions of the object-orientation of the Burgerpunk School of thought, such as: does object fetishism exist without the physical object? How will the streamlining of service-oriented positions affect consumer gestalt? Is there life after Burgerpunk?

In post-Burgerpunk, the Burgertheorist substitutes the low-quality consumer good, with all its accompanying sense-experience and immediate physical health hazards, with the post-industrial information commodity. Where there were pimpled minimum-wage fry cooks, there are now rows of sleek touch-interfaced kiosks. Where there were gas fumes now hums the Tesla roadster. Purely ethereal forms take the place of physical sense-referents. The freeways remain, but the thrill of driving is minimized. Consumption is retained in intensity, but replaced in its formulation.

The question comes to be: did the object ever matter?And in this sense the informational commodity supersedes the consumer good. The subscription secures the means of consumption, but the commodity is ever-present for consumption. All modes exterior to the subject-object, consumer-commodity relation can then be safely expunged.

It should not be surprising then that the model of continued purchase and return should be replaced by automated subscriptions, in order to remove the choice from each forking path in consumption. The consumer need no longer to even decide yes or no, but only to remain inert within the system of automation. It might be said in the future: the mobility scooter had to roll, so that the Amazon™ drone could fly.

[Anonymous No.16398843]

>>16398780
And unimaginative. What do you expect from a genre that doesn't exist outside /lit/ memes?

[Anonymous No.16398847]

O! say can you see, by the neon’s dim light,
What so proudly we parked at the twilight's last drive-in,
Whose pinkish slime and goulash delights eat your precious insides,
O'er the ads that we watched, which were mind numbing static?
And the ICBM’s red glare, the nukes bursting in air,
Gave proof through the blight that our prez was still there;
O! say does that M-spangled banner not cease
O'er the land of dollar menus and the home of t’obese?

On the shore dimly seen through the trash of the deep,
Where the Chinese haughty host in dread silent reposts,
What is that which the Febreze, o'er the towering Staircase steep,
As it fitfully blows, half pickles half cheese?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first McSplender,
In full glory reflected now shines in the Twitch stream:
'Tis the M-spangled banner, O! long may it not cease,
O'er the land of the bill and the home of t’obese?

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the hazard of gluttony and the fatties confusion,
A home and a McCountry, should leave us more poor?
Their blood has washed out our foul carbon’s pollution.
No refuge should be save, the hiring of minimal-wage slaves
From the terror of the NEET life, or the gloom of poverty:
And the M -spangled banner in triumph doth not cease,
O'er the land of the bill and the home of the obese.

O! thus be it ever, when Investor shall stand
Between their loved stocks and the west’s desolation.
Blest with Thickshakes and “peace”, may the Heav'n accursed land
Praise the Power that hath made and capitalized us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is profitable,
And this be our motto: 'In G-d is our McTrust.'
And the M-spangled banner in triumph shall not cease
O'er the land of the bill and the home of t’obese!

[Anonymous No.16398867]

Here's a clue for you, American anti-americans and commies still suffer from the burger gravy, there's literally no escaping it. Burgerpunk has tainted Americans with original sin.

Antiamericanism is Donald Glovers "This is America", Burgerpunk is Rammsteins "Amerika". While the former is more critical as a glance, the second is far more in-depth about the horrors of the Burger gristle. American commies are Americans first and foremost, and they'll never be anything else.

THAT is burgerpunk.

[Anonymous No.16398876]

>Main character lives on outskirts of city
>never goes downtown, too expensive
>Works 2 part time jobs
>shitty apartment
>run down car
>in debt for college degree he didn't finish in liberal arts
>fails at tinder dates
>his entire social network shows him how much a failure he is
>tries to save a mom and pop shop he likes going to. (cards or comics or something, doesn't matter)
>fails miserably
>loiters with friends at gas stations and grocery store parking lots
>gets fired from job every time he tries to fix something wrong
>gets talked down to by wealthy customers about bootstraps
>inundated by news about war/politics/crime but can't do a thing about it
>every other chapter is at a fast food place or a bar
>tried to learn how to program but no one will hire him because he lacks experience
>long explanations of goods or services like american psycho does with clothing brands.

[Anonymous No.16398929]

These threads used to be so active, what happened to /lit/?

[Anonymous No.16398934]

>>16398636
I don't see it as necessarily subversive, more as a passive reaction. One of the common themes I see in people's takes on burgerpunk is the focus on being middle class to the point of being incapable of truly breaking free from the system. I see burgerpunk as being a reaction to society by mundane individuals incapable of escape, seeking respite from the irony and consumption so pervasive in their lives.
>>16398780
Cyberpunk has much more of a focus on the progression and dangers of technology. I see burgerpunk as being a contemporary branch of cyberpunk crossed with the heavily consumerist outcome of such technological advancements.
And of course it comes off as pretentious, try describing any genre in-depth without sounding like a faggy fart-sniffing academic. One of the things I've noticed in a lot of the writings of other anons exploring the burgerpunk concept is that they try to use humor a good deal, something that generally isn't used by overly pretentious writers.

[Anonymous No.16398935]

[Anonymous No.16398951]

>>16398929
Be the change you want to see in the chans.

[Anonymous No.16398955]

>>16398934
Nice analysis anon. Every couple months I'll open the 200 page collaborative document we all made and laugh my ass off. Some of that shit they wrote was genius.

[Anonymous No.16398968]

>>16398955
Do you have the link? That sounds absolutely brilliant, I feel bad for having missed it

[Anonymous No.16398973]

We should all write short stories and upload them to amazon. Not only because that is burgerpunk as fuck, but because we could train the algorithm to treat it as a real subgenre.

[Anonymous No.16398988]

>>16398968
I uploaded it to the blog I made, thinking I'd post burgerpunk there to fuck over the SEO of the restaurant in Oklahoma

burgerpunkDOThomeDOTblog/documents/

[Anonymous No.16399001]

>>16398636
>burgerpunk

Just because it doesn't have the expected level of curb appeal doesn't mean it's not cyberpunk; stop coping.

[Anonymous No.16399020]

>>16398687
>>16398762
>>16398787
These are brilliant.
>>16398824
This is a great analysis while also sounding very burgery itself.
>>16398876
These all nail the motivations and pursuits, I'll be writing these down as notes.
>>16398973
Decent idea

[Anonymous No.16399088]

>>16398988
Much appreciated, really looking forward to reading this.

[Anonymous No.16399150]

>>16399020
I had started writing it to where it would be Jerry and the girl fast food employee would meet up from one of jerry's deliveries, but I got distracted with life and really didn't know what the plot would be other than them driving around.

[Nemo !!GgBWHLRiayD No.16399165]

>>16398636
Only as a temporary means to a Nationalsocialistic end.

Visiting "Best Buy" as a kid in Y2K used to be a special occasion; it was like a metropolitan "Blockbuster".

[Anonymous No.16399211]

>>16399165
>Nemo held the box in his hands. It's hard plastic security measure followed by a thin plastic wrap followed by a cardboard box were between him and the cartridge. He had stopped asking his mother to buy him new games ever since she started making him mow the lawn in exchange for money. The capitalist system was inundated into his very will to live at a very young age. His desires for Yoshi Story burned like the fires his father started and subsequently is still serving a twenty year sentence for. He set the box down back on the shelf and continued walking down the isle. Men in blue polos with bellies falling out of them wandered around, helping middle aged women look at cables and cameras. tomorrow was fathers day. Nemo didn't like fathers day. It means he would have to visit the prison.

[Anonymous No.16399231]

>>16398653
Schizophrenic capitalism

[Anonymous No.16399359]

>>16399231

[Anonymous No.16399383]

>>16399359

[Anonymous No.16399407]

>this is meant to be the greatest time to be alive in human history, according to anthropologists
are these people insane?

[Anonymous No.16399418]

>>16399407

[Anonymous No.16399423]

>>16398653

It's an hehepostmodernirony way of saying Americana

[Anonymous No.16399433]

[Anonymous No.16399452]

>>16399407

Have you seen history? That thing was shitshow from start to finish.

[Anonymous No.16399497]

>>16398843
My understanding of burgerpunk is that its primarily a music thing that people on here really really want to be a literature thing

[Anonymous No.16399500]

>>16399497
what music is burgerpunk?

[Anonymous No.16399514]

>>16399497
>>16399500
He must be thinking of vaporwave

[Anonymous No.16399558]

>>16399514
I'm googling it now and I remember a chart that people would post to /mu/ but I can't find it. I do remember anons saying that Burger Records out out burgerpunk. The Garden was a band that was burgerpunk. I guess people on /mu/ just didn't know what they were talk they were talking about

[Anonymous No.16399559]

[Anonymous No.16399581]

>>16399558
>Burger Records
>The Garden
Lazy LA garage rock is burgerpunk? Those guys love burgers and cheap beer, but beyond that I'm not seeing much connection.

[Anonymous No.16400484]

[Anonymous No.16400513]

>>16399558
Burger Records doesn't have anything to do with burgerpunk, whoever told you that is a fucking idiot.

[Anonymous No.16400980]

Five minutes until the shift is over
Five minutes to freedom
Five minutes before I’m fined
Five before I’m beaten

I’ve been fired once before
And only got off with a warning
But ever since that new law passed
The unemployed are worried

When you’re released without good cause
From under someone’s employ
A bullet straight through the head
Perhaps it gives them joy.

Do not run away from it
Don’t fight it because they know
How to track you down with drones
You reap what you can sow

[Anonymous No.16401110]

Will you faggots just read DFW and shit like White Noise already? Burgerpunk is literally just that mixed with a couple of Sam Hyde videos and a meme understanding of culture.

[Anonymous No.16401159]

i think your answer is in your pic.

Except reverse it to capitalism.
There are several forms of capitalism im sure, there were waay too many grad school economists from the last 20 years to say otherwise.

I mean bugerpunk is more about the american highway system concerned with logistics , transport.
Bugerpunk is like the war wives and the wagon train follpwing an army.
Off ramps offer hotels , gas stations, and a quick 10 minute shower for battle worn and methed out truck drivers fresh from getting their dick sucked by a dude in a late night orgy in some random rest stop.

With this we examine the effects of "big boy corporate capitalism" on the old pioneer towns of old.
Where oases in the deserts are wall marts and sam club.
I think the term is "food desert".

burgerPunk is about the next step after the pioneer taming the wild west. Its about the corporation taming the pioneer.

[Anonymous No.16401189]

>>16398636
>capitulated to capitalism
Burgerpunk isn't necessarily a negative reaction to capitalism, I think. That would just be any number of political/economic schools of thought which are more directly reactionary to it. In my eyes, burgerpunk is characterized by a humanist focus on the individual experience in the era of late capitalism. Capitalism is a huge component of burgerpunk, but it's not necessarily the focus. Capitalism has created these enormously complex structures, both physical and otherwise, but human beings are biologically still mostly the same we've been for tens of thousands of years. If you were to teleport a human baby from 2000 years ago into 2020 and gave it the same nutrition and upbringing as we get now, it'd be completely indistinguishable from modern humans. Burgerpunk is the interplay between our biology and our technologically advanced contemporary state.

[Anonymous No.16401270]

>>16398929
Really it ended with the google doc. If you had a non-vandalised project instead of endless manifestos it might go somewhere.

[Anonymous No.16401448]

>It's another "Eurotrash discussing burgerpunk" thread
Stop appropriating our culture and go back to wanking about "walkable cities" on /n/. Only Americans can truly understand what it is to be a 21st century American.

[Anonymous No.16401559]

>>16399418
Sick spot for a drag race

[Anonymous No.16401565]

>>16398747
Oh wow, I thought it was just an umbrella term that insecure Europeans would use for any American Novel, but that’s even worse

[Anonymous No.16401645]

>>16401448
That's why I'm focusing on developing post-burgerpunk/euroburgerpunk fiction

[Anonymous No.16401784]

>>16400513
No as someone who grew up in LA during the Burger Records days we all call that sound “burgerpunk” it’s meant as an insult to describe shitty punk bands that sound like they belong to burger records. That’s probably why people think it’s a music thing.

[Anonymous No.16401835]

>>16398847

Very nice! I always wanted to make an adaptation but the only good line I could think of was 'land of the fee and home of the slave'

[Anonymous No.16401868]

>>16398662
>neoliberalism
you misspelled rampant capitalism

[Anonymous No.16402721]

What's the most burgerpunk font?
What's the most burgerpunk form of advertising a book?

[Anonymous No.16402734]

Given what "punk" means in US prisons, I think as a suffix it perfectly describes the type of people who read _______-punk genre fictin

[Anonymous No.16403154]

>>16402721
Papyrus and sign spinning, duh.

[Anonymous No.16403474]

>>16403154
Based and burgerpilled
>>16401110
Cringe

[Anonymous No.16404084]

>>16398680
>>16398687