Ellen DeGeneres is hydraulic fracking with a face.

She’s like if Walmart union busting was a person.

She’s like if Amazon and Disney had a baby

and raised it on a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier

on a steady diet of digital surveillance and NAFTA desolation.

Most people have birds behind their eyes.

Some have owls, some have flamingos,

some have crows,

I have lorikeets.

But most have birds.

Not Ellen DeGeneres, though.

Behind Ellen’s eyes, there are fentanyl patches

and eviction notices.

I swear to you I saw them once

during a particularly labored monologue

when she clearly didn’t want to be there

and had probably thrown a plate of cheese fries

at the makeup lady minutes before.

Did you know Ellen stopped dancing during her shows?

She says she never liked it.

I believe her.

The whole universe believes her.

Ellen DeGeneres is the opposite of dancing.

Ellen DeGeneres is the Australian coal lobby.

Ellen only enjoys dancing

when she dances with George W Bush,

which she does constantly

for all eternity

in the center of every tear

that falls from the eyes

of Gaia.

There is a sacred, primordial spark within all of us.

It rejoices.

It delights.

It dances.

It is the exact opposite of Ellen DeGeneres.

May the whole world be the opposite of Ellen DeGeneres.

May the whole world dance.

May the whole world delight.

May the whole world de-Ellen,

and may Portia do the same

(come on girl you know you gotta get outta there).

Amen.

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