Quick, go to sarahszabo.com.
OK. It’s not a mirror, and it’s not me—but isn’t that fascinating? Hell, my name’s Sarah Szabo. Hell, I’m a freelance writer, and a journalist too. Hell. Is that me?
Well. Nuh-uh. That’s another Sarah Szabo. Let’s look at some more of them.
This Sarah Szabo, for instance—she’s got some crazy cool art posted up in the realm of particle physics for your perusal here, among other dope things. I quite like that. These are the kinds of paintings you put in your opium den, at odd angles.
The aforementioned Sarah Szabo is a writer—writes articles, writes essays, free lancing, as you do. (I do.) Oh, 2010? Hell—we’re contemporary. Hell, my byline is Sarah Szabo, too.
The other night I was turnt up. More than a little hammered, by the time the sun had set on your world I had just reached the Zen Nexus, and I gave my body over to the fluvial forces that surrounded me there in greeting, its currents flowing dreamlike across me in the waters of the Chill.
The Chill was set to maximum. Lil Wayne’s “No Type” interp rang out from somewhere, sounding sourceless in the warm dark. Stripped-down beat somehow morose with him at the helm, descending notes and his voice echoing down with great humanity throughout the tangled network of unexplored tunnels I now existed in. He may have actually been there. “I ain’t got no type… but when I met codeine, there was love at first Sprite…”
Anyway. So it was right there, in the Chill Zone, that it all hit me. It had been brewing for a while, but in the chill zone—the Zen Nexus—time speeds up.
The idea is called Same Name Squad.
Only in the age of social media could such an ambitious project be so trivial to actually conduct. For now, in these times, we may seek with ease, our name twins. We may witness their works and days, the qualities of their character. And we can reach out to them with the stroke of a button, bearing an offer of collusion. We can, with powers combined, become one. This, for the world, is a dazzling new era.
With our names and portfolios combined, the Sarah Szabo Same Name Squad will be an artistic golem of a titan’s stature, wise beyond her years from the benefit of tens, dozens, hundreds of minds on-deck in tandem—all these lives, the things they saw.
As for the Sarah Szabos, at least the ones before us here—myself excluded—they all seem so artistic. Hell, I kinda think they’d be down for this. But if one expands the search around the world, with great focus, and a wide net—the possibilities are myriad. We would have specialists in every field, and therefore, as one united, be a specialist in every field. Even the negative fields—the vice ones. I live near a Sarah Szabo who’s had some warrants out for check fraud, and who’s to say we don’t need her in the crew? Who’s to say we don’t need a wild card? I’m sure one of these Sarah Szabos out here is a lawyer, she probably just doesn’t have a website, because she’s busy. This one got a mean textin’ game, it seems, so we’re gonna need her. Social networking. This one paints mad dark shit, which would help with our aesthetics—we’re a brand to be feared—and I think some of these bitches even model. Some of ’em might even fight.
We can be the total package, y’all. One name—one identity. Same Name Squad.
The end goal? The unity? A single byline—a perfect person. A golem of the heart and soul. “Who are we? We are Sarah Szabo,” and all that.
Individually, our lives would be the same, of course. This isn’t weird. Hell, we don’t even have to meet, though we should. On a personal level, it’s whatever. But professionally? Professionally we are one. Professionally, we got squad power. One name, and we run the game.
So. Anyway, think about it. Think about your squad. Who ya got? Who ya gonna call? I need to send some emails out.
youtube rabbit hole: fools getting stranded by cruise ships