And he’s like, Um, look, I know I wrote all that anti-technology stuff, but I’m going nuts in this place. They call it Supermax, so I figured it’s gonna be some kind of wicked-ass department store like a Wal-Mart Supercenter or a Big K where you can get groceries and golf clubs and inflatable swimming pools. But you know what? You can’t get shit in this place. This whole “super” appellation is a total misnomer. So look, if you’re coming to Florence, could you bring old K-Dawg a video iPod loaded up with, I don’t know, a couple of seasons of Dancing with the Stars, or some episodes of that new racially segregated Survivor? I heard the Asians kicked ass. Big surprise.