AI AS NARRATIVE SWORD: FIELD TEST #4

🚀 GONZO + ARCHIVAL BLOG HYBRID
Subject: David Bowie – Space Oddity
By Ricardo Pereyda | Burn Slow Doctrine Division, IVLC
Watch here

“This is Ground Control to Major Tom…”
And just like that—we're untethered.

Floating.

Beautiful.
Alone.
Fucked.

🛰️ Scene:

David Bowie didn’t just write a song about an astronaut.
He wrote a goddamn instruction manual for dissociation.

“Here am I sitting in a tin can…”
That wasn’t sci-fi—it was autobiography.
Yours.
Mine.
Ours.

A blueprint for what it feels like when the system breaks the last thread and calls it a mission.

You’re up there, floating above Earth in your uniform—
And down below?
The same bureaucrats who launched you into oblivion are now pretending they can’t hear your transmissions.
“Your circuit’s dead… there’s something wrong.”

No shit, Control.

📜 Archive Dive:

Let’s talk about United States v. Randall—the original distress signal.
A legal “Space Oddity” if there ever was one.
Robert Randall beamed a flare into the void:
“I’m blind. This helps. Why the hell are you arresting me for it?”

The courts blinked.
And, in a moment of rare human clarity, they answered:
Medical necessity is real. Compassionate access is warranted.
Translation: Major Tom, you’re not crazy. You just have better intel.

But that was 1976.
What happened next?

The launch codes got buried.
The comms scrambled.
The program classified.

Veterans came home from war, sparked up to survive, and found themselves marked for reentry into the criminal justice system.
Still do.

And now?
We’ve got the data. The history. The goddamn affidavits.
And yet the VA acts like we’re just hallucinating up here.
Like our circuits are dead.

🧠 Analysis:

“Can you hear me, Major Tom?”
It’s not just a lyric.
It’s a plea to every institution that said, we’ve got your six.
And now hides behind acronyms and psych evals and CUD diagnoses.

We’ve been orbiting this truth for decades:
Cannabis is medicine. War is trauma. Veterans are canaries in the policy coal mine.
But instead of listening, they blame the canary for coughing.

And just like Bowie, we learned how to turn alienation into art.
Into archives.
Into essays that testify.

⚠️ Call to Action:

If you’re reading this—if you feel the hum of that fluorescent light on your skin, the cold bench beneath you, the silence in the headphones—
you are not alone.
This is not the end of the line.

It’s a relay.
Pick up the transmission.
Finish the broadcast.
Reclaim the record.

Because history isn’t just what happened.
It’s what we do with what happened.

And if they left us drifting,
then we’ll build our own radio tower out of garden beds, court transcripts, policy briefs, and poetry.

And we’ll send the next generation something better than a goodbye.

We'll send them instructions for reentry.

🛰️ Burn Slow. Broadcast Loud. Archive Everything.
This is IVLC Ground Control. Can you hear us now?

✊