TSFTM
TheSusie FashionMemo: A fictional art memo
Updated 12/9/24 at 4pm ET: My novel is my work of fiction. My names, characters, places, and incidents are products of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is coincidental.
NOTE: Unless the material is quoted clearly, I never copy and paste words from AI or any other source into my self-published books — please go to fashiontext.com for more info.
__CH1. Preface for Susie__
In S2007, my friend Conri made a modest million or so while working in Silicon Valley.
But then he helped me write my S2011 autobiography, “TheSusie FashionText.”
And, a lot of pundits had told me to avoid sharing my story with the public in the way I had with them, privately.
But the truth about my life was news, because I liked the idea that, “Journalism is whatever anyone with power wants to forget.” ([1])
For it’d never been a secret that I tended to be a journalist.
As I’d been present at the very beginning of the social media and generative AI revolutions.
Conri’s work as my ghostwriter also ended up speaking for itself, in the sense that our book about my various revolutionary roles became bigger than me in all the right ways. It was an outstanding triumph of collaboration.
And so I went on to recommend my autobiography wholeheartedly. There were links to it all over the place — and at my thesusie.com portal too.
In that context, I asked Conri, “What do you plan to do next?”
But then he said, “I’ve just been struggling for the last few years, because most everyone’s gaslighting me, more or less.”
“Why?” I interrupted, with double meaning.
“Not you so much, but people are gaslighting me in response to the subtle displacement of my right cheekbone that I’ve had ever since sustaining a facial injury a long time ago in S2001,” continued Conri.
“That can’t be what you’re doing next!” I replied.
“This would be an easy problem to manage if doctors would agree that the disfigurement of my face is a disability and then work with me to develop a framework for managing the unconscious bias that normal people experience toward me because of my Facial Difference,” posited Conri.
“Why that?” I deadpanned.
“Why do you ask?” said Conri.
“Is this a really bad situation that you’ve been keeping quiet in plain sight?” I wondered out loud.
“Oh no, I’ve never been powerful enough to go on offense in media,” explained Conri.
“That’s debatable, but what I could agree with is that you might wanna handle your affairs in the way that I do going forward, but as a man, or whatever you prefer,” I concluded.
“Wouldn’t it be easier for a growing community of doctors and human resources professionals to just stop denying that they, themselves, have experienced self-reinforcing unconscious bias in response to my face?” argued Conri.
“You know that people think you should be able to change your personality in some way that makes this whole problem go away, because just imagine that you’re a women… How would that change the dynamic?” I queried.
“I know you might wanna act like adjusting to life with my type of facial disfigurement would be more difficult for almost any women, but I don’t believe that,” copped Conri.
“What do you believe?” I trolled.
“What people think is possible isn’t, but gaslighting is…, and my options are limited. Can I advance from here?” asked Conri.
“Yes, if you do it like me, for you don’t want to say anything more about this matter, but you can do it like me. That framing keeps your options open, and it’s socially viable, as long as you follow the law, anyone who tries to stop you will lose,” I doubled down.
“Then I guess that’s what I’m doing next,” Conri whispered.
And so I’d done the mostly effortless work of deprogramming my bias toward Conri instead of diving deeper and deeper into an abyss of acting like I had no material bias even though I did, because I wanted to have the option to continue working and climbing with Conri.
But our process hadn’t involved going down the path of saying that I had bias until I chose to take that step on my own.
Our process focused, instead, on inviting me to explore the idea that I had bias in the backcountry of my own mind.
So then this was the main fork in the road of extra work that Conri and I did to accommodate the situation from our perspective, as follows:
0) Remember that, yes, the next three talking points are work, but work is worth doing, by definition.
1) Acknowledge that I had bias because Conri’s face was subtly disfigured in a way that made it look like he was raising the muscles below his left eye at all times — and that, crucially — the subtlety of his disfigurement made my bias stronger not weaker, at first glance;
2) Set an intention to deprogram all of that smoke in the mirror stuff;
3) Let my mind, body, American Sign Language (which is a good way to remember Ack Set Let, like a mantra, because it’s easy to forget how important this stuff is, especially at the outset of the deprogramming process), and then let the mystery of the universe do the rest;
Albeit sight unseen, but it’s always that way.
It’s all about the narrative.
Whence my books.
For I thought that deprogramming unconscious bias in all of its forms was just what good people did.
Who hadn’t deprogrammed their unconscious bias in the S21st Century and beyond?
Everyone, apparently, but only in the extraordinary case of Conri’s specific type of facial difference.
And then it clicked for me.
His struggle was real, because he was taking fire from both the left and the right.
First and foremost, folks on the political right in America had never taken any form of unconscious bias seriously, except for when it’d started happening to them after the S2008 election, but even then, they didn’t get the joke.
And yet my Democratic party, by registration at least, also wasn’t including Conri in academia’s taxonomy of people who had self-awareness like me, to put it slyly.
Very slyly, because the imminent danger in his life was mostly coming from the left, and that’s the essence of what I’d misunderstood.
For there were some if not many support groups striving to advance disability rights vis-à-vis facial differences.
As Facial Difference has been a thing that’s ebbed and flowed since prehistoric times.
But Conri’s rare brand of faciaL differencE (the final L and E within the previous two words are capitalized) was still flying blind under the radar, and the silence about his situation had become deafening.
And so I grabbed whiskey and soda with my friends who work in conservative media, but they weren’t having it. One anchor who does her hair and makeup like me even got up and left the premises after I said, “Conri and I are a couple of the best engineers in the world. It’s bad for American military competitiveness if y’alls official narrative leaves him with no better move than to fight full-time with everything he’s got just to avoid getting called delusional sooner or later by everyone he comes into contact with even though he’s telling the truth.”
I also called out, “My dems have been total hypocrites toward him too!”
But with or without conservative media in the picture, the good citizen and registered Republican Conri was on a path dependent course to fall through the cracks into a manhole and get got in darkness, voiceless. Not good.
Like so, it was gonna be easy and difficult for doctors to look. No not look. No look the other way while Conri got bullied into oblivion by all the right wrong people, not unlike them.
And, I felt that if we could change the hearts and minds of a core group of American doctors, in particular…that outcome would drive a new consensus in favor of protecting rare people like Conri instead of throwing all hundred thousand of them or so in America alone to the wolves, even if Conri’s name did mean something like “Wolf King.”
In all seriousness, I couldn’t understand why doctors hadn’t concluded a long time ago that his Facial Difference was like a disability.
I didn’t see why that solution had ever needed to be so intensely controversial or expensive, etc. to authorize, balance, test, and keep on implementing civilly.
And yet I think a lot of people, including essentially all health care professionals, had felt powerless to do anything other than ignore or write off Conri’s whole situation.
But then a well-known CEO, a head of state, and the Editor of a major print-news publication walked into a room, not long ago.
Therefore I knew upfront that the real joke would be about the likes of them.
Because the flaw in the narrative that was on the verge of oppressing Conri was their business.
And most people had no access to the inner workings of their various royalty hustles.
Whereas we had an audience with,
on a fine evening in early S2013,
at an inauguration ball,
in Washington, DC.
For when they made their entrance, obsequiously enough, someone who I’d never met before said the words “Facial Difference” rather loudly.
As I heard later that she was Director of Political Affairs for a sustainability outfit from the Pelican State.
Environmental something or other, in brief, because she and Conri had met through a common friend in politics who’d introduced them at a rally in Silicon Valley prior to…, but she was the only person in the room Conri had met before, and I guess she liked to be provocative.
That’s why she’d gotten to know him in the first place, but she was smart to scoot instead of talking to me in front of everyone.
So then our three big shots feted me with frozen faces in lieu of asking me a good question or just keeping it light.
I also silently wondered, obtusely enough, “Why aren’t the leaders leading? Who do they think they’re dealing with! I’m TheSusie.”
Had they stared awkwardly at me because my plus one at the event, Conri, still had a right cheekbone that was slightly sunken in compared to his left cheekbone?
Or was it because I’d only recently divorced my dear ex-husband Ralph Alden, the reclusive hedge fund billionaire with whom I’d attended many charity galas — and my fashion choices at those events had been above-average memorable, but not too much so, because the goal had been to raise money.
Either way, as an alleged socialite since the early S90s, I gave ’em nothing, because I wanted to get their unvarnished reaction first.
I wanted to know what they thought and felt about Facial Difference before using the famous features of my feminine face to signal what I knew or wanted to see happen next, because I didn’t have any citations on the topic.
Indeed, I’d never done the work of becoming an authority figure on Facial Difference.
And so three more hot shots did the same.
They became mirrors in my ballroom, because they couldn’t’ve explained either Conri’s chic or my autobiography to their constituents.
But then we surfaced an unwavering conviction that any or all of the true power brokers at arm’s length should’ve expressed a genuine desire to learn more about Facial Difference before anyone else moved a muscle.
Technically speaking, the folks in question might’ve preferred to present themselves to us matter-a-factly — like the editor of the Brew Corker had…twice, actually, at their festival up in NYC ([2]).
Like so, it wouldn’t have been inconvenient for my big three hot shots to do that for me and Conri.
Nobody was asking them to identify on the record as bad actors, for example.
And…maybe they just felt like they were going with the flow.
But the projection of flow that they forcefully amplified was most irrational, because they were probably indulging in unconscious bias due to Conri’s facial difference.
I said probably, unlike the people who’d kept on telling Conri that he was wrong just because he couldn’t prove that people had bias toward him.
In other words, they wanted him to be wrong.
And so they had bias.
But from they’re perspective, it was “just him.”
Because they felt that the problem was his personality, soul, hopes, dreams, lack of notable success, inordinate failures, and ability to stay out of trouble, or not, and they didn’t see his plight as similar to all the other situations in which self-reinforcing bigotry toward people who were different had gone from bad to worst throughout history.
They also acted like he was wantonly ignorant of confirmation bias, out of innocent ignorance on their part, ostensibly.
For the record, they acted like I too, with Conri, needed their approval in order to proceed, when in reality they needed our data more, if not much more, because the sight of Conri’s face was surely affecting everyone neurochemically.
And me standing next to him in a tight dress was definitely adding leverage by simulating how the self-reinforcing effect of his face might accumulate over time vis-à-vis whole communities.
But in summation, they tried to get fealty from me by expressing an intention to be obstinate instead of adding value by chatting with us.
Formatively, Conri and I just stood there like Gothic gargoyles, as our room rebooted, because we knew that the status transaction in progress was an accurate and pertinent model of the conundrum that my plus one had faced on repeat ever since his face had become disfigured.
Ever since then, people had been experiencing something different, new, or unknown in his presence.
And so the emotions like fear that people had felt, while knowing that Conri might one day break the story about what they were feeling became palpable.
Holding that space, feet first, ended up being easier than I’d expected, which suggested that the truth was on our side, and Conri kept up.
But everyone else gradually went back to focusing on each other, as Conri and I hadn’t won the basic respect that we might’ve enjoyed that evening by default had we not been repping faciaL differencE (L and E are capitalized).
As we went home and kept score with words on computers in order to secure the tangible if not essential benefits of getting credit.
For we’d just done to them what so many people had done to Conri out of ignorance w.r.t. Facial Difference over the years.
As Conri on his own was nothing more, but, and, also, nothing less than…a little engine that could.
For the proverbial they were like big trains full of people with places to go and things to do.
As me, myself, on my own was like a train station.
For their unconscious bias toward Conri had blinded them to that in the context of providing public service.
As they hadn’t been curious about the truth, according to my signal.
For in the grand scheme of things, their credentials were but castles made of sand across from my spot on the beach, where, if they’d just played it safe with me, I’d’ve had no agenda.
As I’d become a household name by consistently being cute and lighting up rooms whenever dark vibes of uncertain origin had taken root, not unlike what’d happened at our inauguration event.
And so I could’ve made more moves like that with Conri.
But I’d also studied computer science, because I’d always liked the idea of building systems that might work well for everyone.
So then we bent our knees while leaving the scene in stylish heels, his and hers, because we’d already resolved Conri’s conundrum without conflict, as follows:
If two random people with potentially violently clashing worldviews both happened to have comprehended at least a few dozen pages from in or out of my published works of whimsy;
Then they’d surely be much less likely to get caught up in degenerative or untreatable modes of misunderstanding.
That had become my logic and rallying cry, anyway, after noticing that even the most charming details of my actual interests had become too technical to share socially.
As I’d discovered that there really were right, righter, but never rightist or leftist ways to say everything that balanced everyone’s fancies.
For we’d elucidated Conri’s beautiful algorithm, which did just that.
But then the response to my autobiography “TheSusie FashionText” (TSFT) was tepid.
And that was understandable, because in the summary of me that Conri and I’s key collaborator Zyla had vlogged, it’d become more clear than ever that everyone had been nice about my most newsworthy or salacious dealings within the halls of power.
But I’d also been nice to another friend who had faciaL differencE (L and E are capitalized), after I’d crossed paths with him on a greater NY area train platform in S1996, when I too had been a rising star.
Like so, truth had proven to be stranger than fiction, because he’d gone on to become a major award winning singer-songwriter.
And that was how great mythology had been made since the founding.
But we didn’t just want Conri’s ghostwriting voice to be heard through echoes of me and my famous watchpeople.
We wanted him to be seen as a good person who was no worse than he initially seemed to be in public.
[Fig. 1 (Conri and Susie, with love, mobile, hawk, air, and light shining in atrium)]
And so with that in mind, my Conri took it from there in his voice, with his face showing prominently within the panels on the top left and bottom right of the AI-generated material that Zyla had made into a cover-art collage for this work. [Fig. 2 (Big Tech Conri)]
NOTE: I’m switching to present tense, and there’s a lot of mostly intentional multiple meanings in my zines and books with Conri, because his rare but arguably infamous brand of faciaL differencE (L and E are capitalized) inspires many interpretations of his vibe.
Same for the A-list actors, musicians, and a comedian who share Conri’s brand of faciaL differencE (L and E are capitalized).
But unlike him, those A-listers stay silent below surfaces about the essence of what their lives have been like, while the show goes on.
Because what they’re doing’s pretty close to what everyone’s doing gleefully enough on social media in the era of AI, now.
Like so, most of them are just going with the flow of social norms too.
And so I’d enjoy watching Conri share a stage with a comedian who looks like him, because we’re on the verge of working with AI to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that both Conri and such a comedian’s faces create optical illusions — in the sense that the sunken-in quality of their right cheekbones makes it look like they’re flexing the muscles below their left eyes at all times.
The objective fact in media that their left cheekbones are more pronounced than their right cheekbones also makes it look like they’re smiling on the left side, like “left smilers” who are about to tell a joke.
And yet maybe open source AI can help rebuild a shared reality at the International Center for Research on Collaborative Meritocracy, the Maximization of Love, and the Future of AI, itself.
So then — I’ll just mention this one last thing in order to deleverage before I yield the floor to Conri, Zyla, and friends.
I actually did do Ladder Slay Fight Live in NYC with a comedian whose name I’ll leave out of this speech, because I’m sanctimoniously nerdy to the moon too, now that I’m engaged to Conri.
But I got to do the cold open when I was playing TheSusie robot on $X = a Reality Show About True Love.
For my reality TV co-star, Pierre, kept telling the rest of the cast that I’d done comedy before.
As it was pretty clear that I hadn’t after I bombed LSF.
And then he slew me in the elimination round, which I think had been his plan all along, because my Pierre could’ve done comedy, but he hadn’t.
Whereas deprogramming the bias, rank subjectivity, and mad hattery that mainstream people still naturally develop when they talk with my Conri face-to-face is no more or less difficult than reading our lovely zines.
And now our overall situation is like being at the masked inauguration ball where we didn’t win or lose anything, yet — because the benefit we got by leaving to write this book was greater like Britain than whatever we might’ve gotten by staying.
Therefore, we haven’t necessarily missed out due to how anyone reacted to my dour devil-date’s funny feline hubris.
But does all that dueling make extra work?
Yes it does, so then is doing that work with Conri worth it?
Absolutely, because life is work, and he makes it better.
Here’s to TheSusie’s Honorary Dr. Conri Stonwall. His last name is Stonewall. How fitting.
[1] To call journalism “Printing what someone doesn’t want printed” without qualifying the quote for the protagonist’s power is Morewellian.
[2] Just like we’d been peacefully if not dutifully doing for them back down in DC, so that everyone in our exclusive space could enjoy equal diva dignity where every word matters.
Spring S2013
On my boat
In a USA
[Fig. 3 (An endangered salamander enjoying its natural habitat at a West Bay area university)]
__CH2. Preface by Conri__
In Susie’s S2011 book, TSFT, we opened with the ending, so that audiences could begin reliving her march to fame and fortune that began in the early S90s with an equally vivid sense of the current data-driven context in which she has continued to evolve as a public figure.
She also created an original role for herself on the world stage as a student for life at a Beyond the Pale area university.
And yet Susie’s view of the world started spinning even faster when another one of her longtime associates, President Fay Bobs, became the Commander in Chief of the USA in S2008.
Via her secret Train Station Society, she was friends with everyone in the previous Republican administration too, vibing within their deep vein of authenticity that’d been previously hidden.
But moving right all along, I began narrating this book in S2007 when I contributed fan fiction about Susie’s latest role in life as TheSusie robot on the popular small screen spectacle, $X = a Reality Show About True Love.
And then she compiled the words of folks like me into a crowd-sourced living text online called “TheSusie.com Show” (aka. TSS).
Like so, Susie-the-journalist also interviewed me about my experience working at “the hands-down hottest unicorn of the aughts: Suitsash” — as part of her TripLeFT “meta engineering” project.
But with support from our friends who went to an XYAxis Aligned area university, she worked with me to ghostwrite her autobiography.
So then, in our “CH4: The SharkInjurys” that follows, I’ll go back to the past tense, because we’re excited about making AI-generated videos that show what happened, but not everyone with a stake in the future of the big screen shares our enthusiasm.
For the shadow of TheSusie robot’s grandest show yet is still outperforming — in the form of an LA-in-SI app at her social media news site, SharkInjury.
[Fig. 4 (Is this shark as tall as the cliffs, or is it a reality-sized shark that’s flying to cliff height?
)]
As her protégé Zy added new energy to that production by vlogging the summary of Susie’s autobiograhpy in our “CH3: Zyla’s Vlogface.”
NOTE: we’re pretending that this text was actually written by a fictional character named Todd who lives in a separate, parallel universe in which everyone assumes we’re the fictional characters.
That’s why we’re prefixing dates from Susie’s media universe with the letter S, because that’s what Todd would do in order to avoid creating confusion.
And, we’re also using whimsical names like “a Beyond the Pale area university” or “an XYAxis Aligned area U” so that AI might one day write more and more fan fiction about the new joke that Suitsash is based on making fun of my faciaL differencE — without being fake news. ([1])
But AI says, “Is this parody beneficial, positive, and constructive be/po/co?” ([2])
And so I says, “GemRL ([3]), which is our code name that refers to Todd’s parallel universe, isn’t a parody so much as a drama, and in GemRL, Todd works for a company called The Robodogo (TR), because TR makes fun of Todd in the same way that Suitsash makes fun of me.
Such that everyone in GemRL gradually starts to believe that Todd is mentally ill, which is not funny, obviously, but creating media about the weaponization of acting like journalists might be mentally ill in order to discredit them is be/po/co in my opinion.
Whereby _______ ends up being the main clue that allows Todd to become confident that he’s NOT mentally ill — and that The Robodogo is just gaslighting him and everyone else too for no good reason.”
But then AI filled in the blank with, “TR only insinuates that Todd might be mentally ill when he questions them on Q&A sites like _______.”
Because AI knows that I appreciate it when people throw the blank back at me.
Therefore, I became confident that Beyond the Pale, XYAxis Aligned, and so on and so forth map to realistic places where we can truly aspire to keep it journalistic w.r.t. city, state, and place names at this writing in early S2013.
[1] Todd, like an independent variable, is NOT based on me, even though, by decree, we do have the same kind of faciaL differencE, unlike Susie, Zyla, my roommate Trey, or Fay.
[2] Source: Chat-we-be-me/EEE
[3] GemRL is also called Toddy in private.
[Fig. 4 (Zyla uses writing on her walls to explore the concept of “misunderstandings”)]
__CH3. Zyla’s Vlogface__
I couldn’t believe that Conri went there — to the same elite West Bay area women’s college as President Fay.
Either way, my dream team’s AI-generated graffiti added texture to Susie’s S2011 “TSFT” autobiography.
Fake news also became a bigger problem than ever after social media got everyone to act as if they knew more than anyone did.
But Susie’s oeuvre was all good, for I was in awe of her book — because she was so nice, especially when she was holding all the cards.
As Susie’s writing project began in S2007 when she and her husband (at the time) Ralph Alden, the reclusive hedge fund billionaire, began aggregating a 50k word satire called TheSusie.com Show, online.
And then they used her social media news site SharkInjury.com and an episode of $X = a Reality Show About True Love to distribute and promote it, respectively.
[Fig. 5 (Zyla’s first solo violin performance at her neighborhood bar in NYC)]
Whereby $X=aRSATL was the brainchild of Pierre Babineaux, the fashion mogul and longtime associate of Mr. Alden who’d made another kind of show with him in the early S1990s that involved covering up the Englishman’s role in moving the Frenchman’s permanent residence from Europe to Los Angeles.
Such that Ralph was seen driving Pierre’s yacht into the shallow waters near Hollywood, where he’d stonewalled many questions while leading the team that delivered their boat’s contents to the mansion in the hills that Babineaux had been seen touring with Susie four weeks prior.
But five months before that, Pierre had eloped with her in Las Vegas.
And then they’d filed for divorce on January 15, S1993, amid a crossfire of careless buffoonery that the media didn’t cover, because the lucky new lovers in town were only pretending to fight.
[Fig. 6 (Susie parting ways with Pierre at a Los Angeles area university in early S1993)]
For she was still on track to graduate from college in S1994 and then marry her Ralph in S1995.
So that she could write code, allocate capital, and take infinite leverage for a time.
But after turning 30, Susie played a fembot who was seeking to understand the meaning of true love on Pierre’s reality TV show.
To which her candid co-star Pierre said, “TheSusie’s the best robot ever built, because she’s self-programming and peace-loving, which are both good traits for robots to have.” ([1])
And yet Susie had already taken the lead by then on democratizing the most closely held social data that powerful women typically don’t.
As riding the coat tails of these accommodators in chief hasn’t been like doing math.
Like so, the historical record gained one woman’s unlikely quest to go against the grain, while growing up near the beach in San Francisco during the S1970s, prior to joining the class of ‘S94 at a Beyond the Pale area university.
[Fig. 7 (In S1968, Susie’s parents and her brother, who passed away when she was ten years old)]
Without a plan, her future husband Ralph Alden met Susie as a college freshman during the spring of S1991 at his Aquifer Billiards Capital’s hedge fund happy hour.
For then a subsidiary of Alden’s ABC went on to pay Susie Landing one hundred thousand dollars to bring her team out to London that summer, to “build information management software for the benefit of CLIENT,” according to the copy of their business contract that surfaced during the impeachment of President Fay Bobs in S2011.
As Congress accused Fay of colluding with Susie to hustle the American people, but ever since the Senate acquitted her, there’s been a dearth of reporting about the relationships between Ralph, Pierre, Fay, and her husband Marshall — prior to Susie’s involvement with them.
Like so, during the halcyon days of the mid-S1980s when everything they touched turned to gold, Susie’s gang of four became rising stars in London, Paris, Milan, and New York, while they combined Fay’s husband’s star power with Fay’s own, which had been made in Italy.
But Fay had also gotten Pierre to be the chief beauty consultant for her 400-guest wedding in the summer of S1981, just before the strike, the raid, and the video that killed — and the self-made moguls have been close-knit ever since.
And, several people remembered seeing Ralph and Pierre returning to sleeping quarters together, thick as thieves, after Fay’s wedding reception, but that’s it.
Everything else about them, sans Susie, remains shrouded in mystery.
[Fig. 8 (Pierre’s photo of Susie singing at an open mic event in Berlin during summer S1991)]
So then a decade later, many tabloids wrote articles about the 19-year-old Ms. Landing’s romance with Mr. Babineaux, which took root during the historic summer of S1991 in Europe, way back when it was still ok to dream and cry tears like blood diamonds for the plight of intellectuals writ large…
But she returned to a Beyond the Pale area university that fall as a sophomore, and the school’s independent newspaper, the Paley Daily, framed their Susie as the first woman there to declare Computer Science as her major using the World a wide Web. So dryly, in contrast to her idealistic freshmen fare.
Ms. Landing also did an ibanking internship the following summer in NYC at Manhattan Bureau and Chair, after which Pierre married and took her (by the hair, into his lair) on a cruise around the world.
[Fig. 9 (Susie and Pierre visiting Tahiti while sailing around the world in late S1992)]
And yet she went back to work in S1993 by interning at a Boston-based robotics company.
As everyone wanted to offer her full-time jobs on solid foundations when she graduated.
But then Susie spent summer S1994 backpacking and waxing poetic throughout Europe with her bestie Heather Rockwell.
Pierre also received them as VIPs at his nightclub in Ibiza’s last splash bash.
Three weeks later, Susie began a new job as a Teaching Assistant in Computer Science at Duct Academy, in New England, where she became the focus of a computer hacking incident, which only emboldened her — to get connected with all the people who do computer security at boarding schools in the UK.
But Susie-the-surf-and-turfer finally married Ralph Alden during the never ending summer of S1995 in Cali.
Such that the newlyweds founded an LA-based online retailer called costumearty.com, which she promoted with quiet confidence, starting with their Halloween launch event, during which she was allegedly photographed posing with Fay and Marshall Bobs, who’d been among the last investors to join their Series A.
That photo of Fay and friends also died in darkness, with her fog machines blasting. She was still so young!
Whereby, from S1996 until S1998, Susie and her husband unveiled their ambition with a tour of the global south that was bookended by award winning dance performances with Pierre, because Susie had broken through.
She even wrote link analysis software that supported Fay Bobs’ campaign to become the first female Governor of New York.
[Fig. 10 (Fay and Marshall Bobs on vacation after she became Governor of New York in S1999)]
As her portfolio with Ralph continued to go up and to the right, while she gave birth to their first two children.
And then she, with Heather, her cosmic confidant from college, floated a virtual currency that undergirded a star-powered engineering recruiting network.
Pierre also became a father of three children by three different women, following a party on his yacht in spring S2003. ([2])
But starting in the fall of S2002, Susie had moved in under cover onto the campus of an XYAxis Aligned area university, where she made up a story, so that Governor Fay could shun both Susie and Pierre from her and Marshall’s ascendant network of conservative thought leaders.
And so they attended the S2004 DNC convention, where she signed up to be the Democratic candidate’s campaign surrogate and technology-in-politics correspondent for the 24-Hour News. [Fig. 11 (Boat spin)]
But after all their incumbent Republicans won re-election, the Aldens founded a social media news site called SharkInjury, where they published radically neutral explanations of opportunities to help governments solve problems.
She also laid the groundwork for her online newspaper by giving talks on university campuses about the future of new age journalism.
As their site didn’t get traction until it became the subject of a joke at the comedian Horace Augustus’s notable Bright House Press Correspondents Dinner on the tab of the Presidency in S2006, which had been hard to handle, but she’d done it…
And then she returned to her roots at the intersection of media and tech by pretending to be an AI robot on Pierre’s $X = a Reality Show About True Love — a role that finally made her famous.
[Fig. 12 (TheSusie robot at the Bizsea Earth amusement park near LA in early S2008)]
For example, she appeared in a Union Jack getup near the front of the ‘S07 Sailors’ Jib-Related Swimsuit issue, along with the first media mention of her inaugural FashionText, or FaTe, TheSusie.com Show.
NOTE: according to Susie’s many blogs, “FASHION TEXT are fictionalized accounts of life that help with keeping good records and building trust between humans and AI.”
So that her brain trust could divide the electorate and anticipate the nasty S2008 financial crisis that paved the way for Fay Bobs to become the first female leader of the United States.
For Susie’s west coast engineering team kept growing and, separately, her semi-secret support group that actually accommodated people with faciaL differencE were starting to really do it and meet regularly on the east coast!
As they’d never not been representing what’s what.
Wa Bo magazine also framed Susie and Ralph’s latest move as, “a modern couple in search of a bold compromise in the context of strong female leadership.”
[Fig. 13 (The image of Susie that Washington Boast Magazine used for her article in S2009)]
And, Sanity Hair featured her on the cover of their midsummer double issue, where she wore translucent silk, along with Heather and three more members of their most secretive society in LA. ([3])
But then a clandestine group with ties to the Bobs administration invited Susie to join a live interview on TV with President Fay, via the 24-Hour News studio in NYC.
And so a helicopter took her to a private island in the Bermuda Triangle where either one crew or another held her for two months at a luxury compound so that she could begin working on her autobiography with a longtime associate of theirs named Trey Camden until a passing yacht returned them to her southernmost home in Key West, from where she kept on writing as if nothing unusual had happened…
One year later, President Bobs was impeached but acquitted by her Republican party.
Such that a fellow software engineer named Conri Stonewall finished ghostwriting his and her book “TheSusie FashionText” at the highest nadir of the novel coronavirus pandemic of S2011.
[Fig. 14 (Conri getting ready to work from home on creating Susie’s autobiography in Miami)]
Whereby she continued elaborating her first FaTe on FashionText.
[1] Pierre said that while speaking as a guest on Horace Augustus’s late night show, just one week before the Presidential election in S2008.
[2] One of them was Heat?
[3] Whilst lighting up the sky so as to stage a fake-news moon landing with Pierre, Mime Knife Publishing, and several more private billionaires who were still extremely upset, unappreciative, and oversensitive about not having that thing they call it, love, and TheSusie!
Everywhere
Whenever
LikeSo
[Fig. 15 (Four images of Susie and Zyla imitating each other, seaside)]
__CH4: The SharkInjuries__
The AI-generated images for this article are online at:
Next: thesusiefashiontext.com/memo
Last content change: Dec. 9th around 4pm ET
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