Grey and Jon discuss the big issues:
“When the cybernetic bugs finally conquer our souls
and all the jobs are outsourced
to those infested military industrial automatons
and the robots are making the AntiFolk
along with everything else,
will the other robots truly be qualified
to write the criticism
in the burgeoning fanzine scene
bound to develop in the wake
of all their derivative crappy songs?”

“When the robots make the songs
and the robots produce the songs
and the robots distribute the songs
to other robots
who review them
in their shitty little cut and paste fanzines
with triple-digit circulations
to digital eyeballs
in far off markets such as Electropolis
or Mechanicsburg and Screws York
then the quality of the reviewship
need only be as good
as the readership, right?
“The cybernetic fanzine writers
will do just fine,
I am certain.”

“But what if -”

“It’s as simple as -”

“The robots -”

“The reviews -”

Jon and Grey had been replaced
by self-replicating applications
decades before.
They never realized
and knew the difference.