jpaulgorman

Flash it back to 1999.  Take it from Prince, back when he went by Prince.  "If you didn't come to party, don't bother knocking at my door."  Shake it, go for the splits, fly into a raging guitar solo, demolish the fret board.  But don't ruin your hips, take care of your hips, keep your hips loose.  Get the knots out.  The sad of the world can be sad if they want to, or have to.  It's sad.  Sad as hell.  Sad is all around, sad this, sad that.  Sad 'til midnight, sad 'til dawn, sad 'til we're all dead and gone. The groans and moans of humans, hear it in the distance, it will fade away to nothing.  Dig the seasons of our lives.  Dig in, our time is now, and the days after now.  America ain't gone for good, keep it real.  Keep it loose and hippy.

Close it up again, shutter.  Wrap this year in Saran Wrap, pull it tight.  The air might getcha.  Don't let the air getcha.  Getcha, getcha, getcha.   The boogieman bums are back.  Amatuers of the lowest order, the gutter league, the small timers.  Let them clock stare, let them tick their tock alone. They can count it down by themselves.  From ten to one. The ball fools.  Resolution whacks, the turn leaf liars, the wave chasers.  Spin.  Go dizzy in the new year, go around again.  Spin.

  Down with Delta, it's Delta down. Find your soul in their lost and found. Their planes seem stinky and full of scuzz. Dumping them forever, just because... Hell, they don't care. Heck, they're not fair. Messed with my children. Oh, don't you dare. So I'm down on Delta, take Delta down. Hear that knocking, that grudgy sound. Gonna leave a review, no need to be rude. One star of 5, good for my grudgy mood. EAAE DEx2.ADE

Sense of something common, it's freezing in here.  Same revolution.  It just goes and goes, ripping back our freedom and dignity, turning it up to 11.  Make 'em quit like the Brits.  We don't want your empire. Fluctuate and position, scheme and strategize, blame the game, dish the pain.  Assume too much, fill in the blanks with delusions.  Chew on it.  Nothing will make it taste better.  Days are numbered, we are in the double digits now. The color of thin clouds at dawn.  Fluorescent.  Moving northeast, clearing out.  Bright days ahead.  Lizzy tunes about jailbreaks.

Forget the leaves, the turning is done.  Now is the time for the rakes.  Bag these old, crispy, red oakers.  Get the damn acorns too.  Shade will return in spring, the light winter is here getting ready for the birth. Word is out.  Maybe has been upgraded to probably with doubt running for the back door.  When the house lights blaze, the gig is over.  Time to get.  Time to get going. Shambles are fine, all our broken ways.  We'll stay afloat, somehow, someway.  Like always, so far.  The gone know more than the present.  Missing someone on the roll call this morning.

  February 1, think we're all done. We'll have our say with election returns. Ain't reading your signs no more. Done, we're done, we're all just bored. EEAE EEDE X2.

  Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Times we went down to the wire, times our pants caught on fire. Times we threw it up for grabs, times we drove 'em mad. Times we felt the hands of God, times we knew we all got robbed. The times don't always act like we want 'em to. Sure you'll have a smile on your face, smirking like you knew 'bout grace. How's it feel to have your sins washed clean for good? Maybe the Cowboys'll make a run, prolly not the refs are bums. Guess it'll all be just as it should. Say hello to Grandma, say hello to Ole Fitz too. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. Tell 'em 'bout the Turkey Bowl, tell 'em 'bout the fishing holes. Tell 'em all about their radical crew. GC/GD/GC/GDG

The bribes were a pleasure to take, so fly and new, so hidden and unknown.  The things, the places, the glory.  Spend it like a freebird, fast and flashy.  Signal the next benefactors, squirm up more green lettuce, more green backs, more green juice.  The fun part. Then the cooking starts.  Butter first, to grease the pan, to coat the food, to make it savory.  Next, the meat, marinaded and trimmed, turned once.  Mushrooms and onions added, simmered down, sautéed.  More butter. Seasoned with salt and pepper, the knife and fork are ready to devour the delicious.  But first, some blackmail gravy on top, it's just how the dish is served.  Ignore the sour, bitter taste.  Pay no attention to the runny, lumpy, gooey substance ruining the food.  The bribed will eat it anyway.

Keep the pressure on, take it to the end. Condition, condition, condition.  For the seasons ahead.  This is normal now.  We have slipped, the slope does not forgive. Do less, be less, have less, want less.  More is not better anymore, more is worse, more is immoral, evidently.  Abundance is awful to the scummy moral tyrants, wrapping themselves in false righteousness.  They cannot withstand light, they will end.  Walking dust. Tune it out, go retro digital.  Like the punks, stick it to the robots.  Make them work it, make them pop it, make them do the human dance.  The moonwalks and spinners, the ballrooms and bordellos, the discos and studios, the cardios and radios.  They are artificial.

  It all seems nonsense.  Almost all, but even if you see it or hear or read it, it might not have occurred, or might have.  Like nonsense, chasing tails, our own and others.  Say what and when and why and how.  And where. These podium pill pushers are on mute now, their moose is running in sticky globs down their sunken cheeks.  They are yanker suckers, in the literal and figurative.  They are skeltons of cold meat, they have cold blood, cold brains, cold shoulders, cold souls.  Let them sulk in global warming, let them melt slowly, warm up the electric heat lamps, loosen up the tundra.  Let's play in the mud. All the while, the people party keeps the party alive.  Living, laughing, learning, loving, they know it's a scam, and a sham, and a shame, they're just trying to make it through.  Nothing wrong with that, time is clicking and ticking and tocking and clocking.  Hope and worry is pointless.  Shouting '22, '22, all is fine in '22, like time doesn't ev

Must go away for 40 days. Find my mind in the desert haze. Raise the glass of gratitude. Thank you thank you thank you too. Now I'm gone on my own way. Finish this up with some final pay. Clear my head and clear my mood. Decide my reasons and speak the truth. One day a ways away from here. When my mind and my moods are cleared. I'll find the answer that I'm looking for. Prolly come walking through an open door. Must go away for 40 days. Find my mind in the desert haze. Raise the glass of gratitude. Thank you thank you thank you too. GGDG CCGC GGDC GCDG

The minions took another cannonball, but nothing important got hit.  The high road has so many advantages.  Cruise on through.  Make a peace sign, victory and death.  Real adults are usually distracted by dollars and cents. Take it to the end, keep showing up, til you show up no longer.  Levity cannot be measured, only felt.  No canned laughter, that's gone on long enough.  Bust your side, wheeze, lose your breath, cackle out loud, snort.  Hysterical and long, don't stop, can't stop. There are other things, different angles, alternative options, greener pastures.  Opinions come in all forms, most are ruined by thinking.  Pointless conclusions of minor importance, of minor consequence.  Take it like a human, man!  Bleed.

That one came in hot, low cool, a myth buster.  Someone gets a pat on the back for ruthlessness.  Admirable, in a way.  Regardless of behavioral class, despite the awkwardness, when want and can collide.  It is what it is, and isn't what it isn't too. Social studies of predetermined ethics and lack of evolution.  Decay of humanity, the dwindling of character, the loss of trust.  It's not needed anymore, it's definitely not wanted.  Drift away, catch the audio waves, the ocean waves, the love waves, in Hi-Fi. In some stereo. Keep it level, keep it steady, 'til the harbour is cleared.  'Til we get past the bay.  Figure out will arrive, be tuned, be open.  Create habits and systems and processes.  Peticulate, obsess.   

No need for looking, or talking.  Or even hearing.  We can all do that later in our other world.  Made to order, the goggles are financed like cars.  You pay for what you get, six sense versions are six figures minimum. Other world real estate, everyone wants a plot, lots of rentals.  Eat the Gatesloaf or the Zuckmuck, tastes like filet mignon, sitting in a snazzy rooftop restaurant.  Some live music in the corner, perhaps Sade tonight.  10 bucks an hour.  Digital odor circuits, everything smells perfect, hints of every season and spice. Worlds should balance out, the other and the real.  Synchronized, integrated, leveraged, your life should be enhanced.  One day we'll have an eternity pill, you won't actually live forever, it will just seem that way.  A mind trick is all, a program.  Angels of scientific fiction.

  CF That's right he said he was techno king. Made it official and everything. Said he didn't need to be no Chief. That's a made up thing, means nothing. Take your shares, make em all cash. Keep em away from your crypto stash. Building his place in the Texas heart. Near Austin where the armadillos are. CAmx3 FC Techno King on the mic. Wizard of the techno night. Go to the moon, hell, go to Mars. We'll all be driving those electric cars. Government built on debt and grease. Got nothing to win by keeping the peace. Stir up the people, get em all mad. Fighting each other while the bribes are passed.

  For the communal good, he raised his voice as he said it.  His nose was up in the air, he was looking down on the screen, he glowed dim white, he sqeaked.  Beagles moaned low everywhere, they knew of his previous communal good declarations.  They lost some family members, they lost some blood.  Everybody in the dog houses knew what communal good meant, that's what the midnight howls are all about. For the communal good, send away the dirty, even though they are pure.  Punish the defiant, even though they are right.  Tell us X, as we look at Y.  Lie to our faces.  What goes up will come down. In a heap of a pile of a stack of trash.  Where it belongs, in the landfill of history.  Keep the oceans clean, leave the water to the future, love the ice, ban all billboards.  Reject the community thieves.  They'll do anything for a bag of bitcoins.

G.C.G.D/d7 We don't think about you. We don't read about you. We don't really care much anymore. Nothing you could tell me. Nothing you could feed me. Why you even care about me for? CG/g7x3 DCG Already paved our way. Always and forever, babe. The door's never closed, it's never closed. It's never closed. We're no longer hungry. We're no longer funny. Our screens are full of serious bores. Sick of all the shout outs. Sick of all the blackouts. Smashing and grabbing all the stores.

Times, they are a'rearranging.  Flip the chip.  Put the fools on display, let them mutter and stutter, hear them lie.  That's what the razor wire is for, keep the stand ups out, keep them away.  No question. Behind the fortress, a babbling mess.  Bribes and payoffs and blackmail, this cannot get out, you see.  The payers, the takers, the cover uppers.  Buy the news if you want, but they've already been bought.  It's not a business anymore, never really was. Put the writers through the muffin, find the poppy seeds and the nuts.  The scammers and scoundrels, the artificial flavors.  Lick the frosting, spit it out, peel the wrapper off.  Bite into the blueberries, the truth, the delicious truth.  Straight from the lumpy batter.

The dupee crowd couldn't understand, they are forever duped.  Lost in translations, lost in pride, lost forever.  Evil takes it to the max while it can.  No going back, no changing that mind, it will die along with that attached body, dust to dust.  Maybe that soul will move on, unknowable, maybe that soul will burn. Listen up, this is 3rd grade now, gotta step up our Cootie game, recess is coming fast this afternoon.  No more 2nd grade giggling, no more outbursts of sissy woe, they're coming after you, they will not smile this year.  We're off to a solid start, our greek has improved, but we still need to fill in some blanks.  Look each other in the eyes, know that backs are got, know that it's impossible to defeat gotten backs.  We are reflecting our sense of common dignity. Best method of discarding this madness is ignoring techniques, determine it a figment of imagination, do not engage the enemy with any of the five main senses.  Smell will be the hardest to ignor

Keeping up with the mutations, scattered and spiked.  Peek-A-Boo, here's Johnny.  Virtually and figuratively.  Laugh in your beer, it's nice and foamy.  Ferment your mind. Exclusive sequencing, like a fingerprint, like an eyeball iris.  Distinctive and unique, confirmed by the vitamin industry.  A mist is being developed.  All will be cured, even the well.  Prevention is the new mandate. Walls crumbling, people are done climbing.  Sledgehammer shortages, make a face while you throw rocks, keep a personal pocketknife for personal protection.  Walk on the sidewalk, run in the streets.  Be slick, be stealth, be unseen.  Chant.

Constantly reminding, the Z's have it.  Out of wits, a boring shell shock game.  Open this door, around that corner, in full retreat.  Take a number, another year.  Dissed the respect. No rut on this road, it's slick and smooth.  Done and gone.  Vanished.  Drunk on day dreaming.  Fooled. Outside, in the cold.  Without fire, without fur.  Shaking, chattering, uncomfortably numb.  Right, but dying.  Quick dimmer, like dusk, like a fade.

Recalling nothing, no plans, no excitement, no spice.  A vacant lot.  Intentional abandonment, punitive and vindictive.  Complete.  Net zero. Fresh new virus, fresh new boogie germ, fresh new spooky.  Cut bait, take your losses, live to cry another day.  Run, hide, shake in your boots.  Worry, the fraidy cats are first in line.  Lecture. Apathy is your friend, healthy and clean.  Don't hear, don't listen.  They are yanking, they yank and yank and yank.  They think we are understanding what they are putting down, but we are full of liberty.  We are simmering with freedom.

CF GFC Pappy was a big man, whose love was bigger than life. Slim was an out of towner in town working for a time.  Slim started sniffing after Pappys daughter, Pappy saw they were having fun.  The days go on and two became one, making Slim, Pappy's only son.   Pappy lead with a spiritual tone, inspiring slim to develop his own. Slim watched taking notes as they went, trials ensued, but they weren't alone.  Building barns, moving beds, and traveling some, Slim  was left to carry on. The shoes were big and Slim felt small, but Pappy was there even though  he was gone. White willow from his past, an ancestral plant that barely lasts. Slims cultivated that plant, long time after Pappy passed.  First bloom came the summer after Pappy went home from here.   The coveted plant is treated with care as slim gives it the upmost care. Pappy was a good man, he was strong as an Ox. He spent his days preaching the Word of the cross He loved to look at  flowers, His mother passed that love on

Lifted by the wind 3500 hundred feet. Going bout 165, above the crowded streets. Headed to Magnolia, suspended in flight. The lights of Texarkana to my left and to my right. Sun disappeared into a blazing red horizon. Dusk of the west leave a grown man crying. Buckle your seat belts, pull 'em on real tight. The lights of Texarkana to my left and to my right. In the dark was Arkansas several miles away. Getting excited, Dodger's bout to play. Then we started our decent from the sky. The lights of Texarkana to my left and to my right. Coming in from the south, the runway lit up. Landed soft and smooth, without any fuss. Saddle up, y'all!!  Was the Mulerider's night. Now the lights of Texarkana to my left and to my right. CCGC/CCGG/FFCC/CFGC

  This debunking is merely creating doubt.  It's a tactic, likely means there's some truth to the debunked.  Otherwise, why bother debunking?  They got fact checkers for that, and fact suckers, and fact makers.  When hoaxes become reality, they're at optimal operating efficiency. These propaganda pros are slick, they stick to the plan.  They lie big.  And often, and again and again.  They operate with rigor, words words words, jam em with words.  They got the goods on the right folks.  Look away from where they point to look.  In the opposite direction, see in 20/20 Gonzo vision.  Clear, unconfused, where things add up.  Like an iceberg, really, the tip is all we need to know.  The ommission media is on another mission, they are blindfolders.

OK, OK, OK, lemme get this straight.  The OK sign is a White superiority thing now.  The raised 3 of the NBA long distance bombers, and other basketball players, guys and gals.  The joint smoking sign, rolled and passed.  Don't get burned by the roach. Not buying it, a pile of dummy dung.  The racers are desperate, the people aren't experiencing what they describe.  The news hacks don't journalism anymore, Geraldo ruined them all.  They are heads.  Back in 3, 2, 1. Keep the OK sign in tact.  Either hand, or both.  Fold the pinky and ring finger down.  That's about right, that's about right.  Finger chicken good.

  Think it's fact, most likely it's true.  Supression is evasive by nature, it was born to hide.  Cheer up, Francis.  This is the time of your life.  This is it. Our baggage is not yours, our pettiness will die with us, unresolved.  Stuck in our ways and means, frozen in our generation.  Conditioned.  Wisdom is aware.  Stay tuned, always stay tuned. Give Freud the slip, he was obsessed with his own business.  An egomaniac.  Get over the hump.  Coasting time, the beach says it all, waves of waves, coming in waves.  They all break somewhere.

Works like a transaction.  All the promising, all the winking, all the links, structured just right.  These bills are paid in full.  Now for services rendered, accounts receivables is satisfied.  With elections coming up, working on the next round of funding. Push the mandering, Gerry.  Lock it in unless we need a tuck, or a duck.  Don't leave it to luck.  Get used to the razor wire fencing, blockade out the tourists, much less trash around.  You are talking to no one, fill out a form to suggest, encourage, or comment.  We are tied up, busy.  Make sure we get some good angles, our makeup goes runny in the lights.  Ribbons and pins, they speak to people, ribbons and pins say it all.  Call everyone friend.  God bless everything. 

The guitar player was gulping wine between tunes, overdressed for the occasion.  Italian chords and nylon strings.  Chick singer sang creamy notes.  Straight rows of vines, umbrellas shading the sun.  Bluest sky of the year, perfectly cool breeze. Texas Hill Country vibe with complex, simple tastes.  Tannins, fruits, aromatic stimulation.  Balance.  Set your pace in the middle.  Keep the mood light, keep the lights dim. Watch for deer and smokies on the way back from Austin.  Especially at 1 am.  The Saxon Pub on Monday night should not be missed.  Then Donn's Depot, where that sweet keys player who played with Glen Campbell plays 'til midnight.  Name droppers all over that town.

  CGFC -The day he found out Molly Ringwald turned down the movie Ghost. -When the circuits got all realigned and the circuit boards were toast. -Had to make another entrance, had to make another showing. -At it again with all his friends, the final quarter for V.B. Owen. -Well old V.B. stayed up late at night writing words and picking tunes. -Moved his body around the court, mostly wore old tennis shoes. -Had this super looking Visor, was green and see through. -Nobody would ever know it, but the leaving leaves him blue. -The work's just getting started, V.B.'s got bills to pay. -Prolly live to a hundred or more, before he hits the grave. -Those Owen folks live long if you check their family tree. -Must be something in the wine they drink, makes them seem so free. ---cowritten by Griff.

  Built on a house of bribes.  Got to follow through to keep your integrity, grifters move on to another town.  These are high class criminals in Washington DC, legitimized by titles and words.  Meeting in lobbies, meeting with lobbies, depositing lobbies.  Rats eventually point fingers at other rats, and the other rats point back. And it continues like this, two rats pointing at each other, for years, for terms, for decades.  These must be important rats, able to avoid the rat traps, able to sniff out the rat poison, able to keep their rat claws off the rat glueboard, able to thrive and grow old and grey.  Like cockroaches, they scatter in light.  They die in light. Take the 75 mile trip up to space, past the skin of our atmosphere.  Suspend your insecurity and envy for a moment.  Float with the gravity of rationality, see the world in its delicate condition.  As it is.  We're all just spinning, even the rats.    

Look past the masses, get to the point of sleep, good sleep.  Fresh minds can think it out better, clear the visions, calmly.  Panic is almost always a bad idea.  Determine your own thought process, develop it over time.  Talk yourself out of things, go against the instincts, ignore the gut. As we slip into isolation and justification, remember the free flow of the ocean, back and forth, swaying.  Harmony already ingrained, swirling and swirling.  To resist is madness, to resist is doom.  It cannot be harnessed, liberty will not comply.  Liberty will swirl. Lock your doors and rot in your rooms.  Not my kind of place, not my scene.  Exclusion is not exclusive, the secret's out.  Stand with your kind, I'll sit with mine, free thinkers, in the thinking hot tub, with thinking jets, and thinking bubbles.  Thinking tanks are so last decade.

Watch me flitter, like a bug. Don't get bitter, still in love. Take these shambles, stack them high. Damn the vandals, suck you dry. Stars still glitter, like they do. Full of tricksters, playing clues. Bound for glory, moving feet. Tells the story, from the streets. Mop up hitter, clear the trash. Stand up, Mister. Just a rash. Quit your creeping, off my screen. Keep on sleeping, woken dreams. EB7GA

  Took a pass on obvious election fraud, they'll pass on freedom of religion, speech, self-protection, and Gulag mandates.  And other liberties, depending on pigment.  Prolly ban the F word, considering its recent publicity.  Oh, and the Declaration Of Independence, along with Jefferson, has got to go.  God Save The Queen! These nine'll do nothing, a broken branch for sure.  At least it's a solid industry, paid by the hour, crank it slow, new litigation opportunities on the horizon, slanders, larcenies, confinments.  Lawyers are brilliant digital paper pushers, the best in the land, the crack hunters.  The crease grease, they'll find it.  Most politicians are lawyers for a reason. The flashlight burns bright, perhaps brighter than ever, the dark rooms are lit.  Good to know who your friends are, but critical to know where the enemy lurks.  Once uncovered, they got nothing to lose. The swarmy meddling becomes indignant orders, the fear of exposure becomes intentional di

"No, no, I'm a lobbyist, I lobby."  But then I questioned their meaningless word, set it right.  Perhaps you're a bribist, giving bribes.  For favorable returns, of course.  For lucrative pursuits of noble conclusions. "I resent that implication, I'm a professional."  Sure, the professional government class, heard all about it, you're the reason we don't have term limits for congress.  Heard it from a Senator himself, Cornball was his name, he's against any term limits because of the professional government class.  Might cramp his style, might expose his digital trail, might mess up his personal balance sheet.  Keep it quiet, everyone goes through the lobby to enter. "How dare you claim I'm bribing the US Congress!"  Settle down, pumpkin spice.  Tough to realize, but it's true.  It's an organized crime, you're just a sucker.  You're just sucking.

Everyone woke up.  Some were alert, bright-eyes, rationality and reason.  Some were zoned out, still wired, frantic and numb.  We see you there, you scoundrels, you snakes, we're ready for you now.  We got more turf. Take credit for something, your leadership is a hungry rodent, it must eat.  Deep down, it's a cannibal, it enjoys its own taste.  The fixers, the kiss of assers, and the fawning handlers, handling who knows what.  No one will catch them when they fall, they've earned their humbling, they should not trust others.  They will decay alone. The re-emergence will be swift, liberty will not be denied, cannot be denied.  It's liberty.  The oppressors will be banished, the emperors will fade away, they will be exiled and ignored.  Banished to the past.  Stuck in time.

  Say No and Sue. Nothing else to do. Reds are worthless. Worse than the Blues. Say No and Sue. No need to be rude. Call up the lawyer. Give them the Blues. Say No and Sue. Found out what to do. Tell em the news in a lawsuit. That'll change their mood.

Our covering of blue.  So thin, you're through it in an instant.  You're into the black.  Light left behind, space is larger than little green men and colorful orbs.  The jeopardy, the vulnerability, the air is a sliver. Mars doesn't have it, to dirty earth is a whole 'nuther matter.  It's death out there.  Experience it in 3D.  Delay and gitters, the simulation doesn't capture it, the G Forces can be survived.  No one cares what the billionaires say, Captain Kirk laid it out. A rocket ride for now, it's the way of the future.  Like bicycles, like cars, like planes, like eBikes.  Novelty luxury items at first.  West Texas is lit, the center of space.  Like a modern day spectator sport, the race is on, rocket riders 62 miles up. 

  With all the snitching going on, it's important to have the proper tools around.  Nuisances should be smacked, we all agree.  Nothing more irritating than a spy, we all agree.  Introducing the Spy Swatter.  Just a swipe away. It's mostly wrist, not an arm motion.  Know their end is quick and justified.  A block, a mute, a bird, or two.  Sign me up for the Fuck Joe Biden movement, always wanna align with the rational young folks of the country.  As a general rule.  Dig up the past, search, search, search.  Like grave shovelers, mixing in the organic fertilizer to make the colors pop.  Smelling of gasoline and animal poison.  Sounding like digital clippers, staring oddly into their snitching screens.  Hacking, turning, twisting, without soul, without intelligence, artificial or otherwise.

All beware of the chip shortage.  Supply chains are whacked, the Fritos came in hot with the chili cheese, completely misreading the market, now there's no shelf space for the new line up of baked products.  The Frito Chili Cheese Flood as the street is calling it, they flooded the damn market with Chili Cheese Fritos.  Now, family bags are going for $1.25, Frito and Lay are getting crunched, everyone is demanding the baked products. Next month it'll be natural gas and, of course, national toilet paper panic day, my favorite worry of the year.  Lots of meat, lettuce, cheese, and coconuts.  Anticipating.  Eating up the worries, taking action.  Been popping fish oil pills. Inflammation busters, smooth out the spikes.  Circulate and circulate.  Move, keep moving, like the really old say, keep moving.  Summon the thoughts and think them through, let the trivial pass on by.  We got no time for trivial.

The Rat Rags of Times and Posts and New Yorkers.  Pages of goo.  Nothing to learn, pretentious and bland, shameless and simple, boring and thought numbing.  Write words better, write better words.  Your perspectives come from the rat nest. Get the lighting right on those photos, they must be like replicas, we'll all live in basements eventually.  They're in under their heads, a sorry condition.  Incompetence is sad to watch, but usually the incompetent had it coming.  They are usually pricks.  It's a defense mechanism for insecurity. This think tank got together and made up slogans, they chanted all afternoon, they kissed each other and gave one another Wet Willie's as they skipped around the think tank complex.  They ate dinner, guzzling wine and shots.  Then they talked about what they thought, if front of the tank.  The tank smelled horrible, it reeked of reek, it was foul, foul as it gets.  They all ignored it, they just ignored the shit, like the shit wasn't

>>>Amos Mashed Set. 1.  Friend Of The Devil.  Grateful Dead. 2.  Three Little Birds.  Bob Marley. 3.  Me And Bobby McGee.  Kristofferson/Joplin. 4.  Tulsa Time.  Don Williams. 5.  That Hat From Mexico.  PG. 6.  The Joker.  Steve Miller Band. 7.  Don't Lose My Koozie.  PG. 8.  Ripple.  Grateful Dead 9.  Buckets Of Rain.  Dylan. ****Intermission**** >>>The Russ Solo Set. >>>Weird Ear Set. 1.  Slow Living. 2.  Audience Eyes. 3.  Pocket Player. 4.  High Heeling. 5.  Private Noises. 6.  On The Fringe. 7.  Here's When You're Gonna Blink. 8.  The Protest Blues. 9.  Corporate Maxed. 10.  Tijuana Taxi 11.  The Okie Sixty Nine. 12.  Wet Cigarette Butts.

Everyone, panic!  We need more caring.  Care, dangit, care!  Hear me, hear me, hear me whisper.  You will care. This irrelevant person kept right on, losing his thought train, blabbering about, indecently.  Creepily.  Gropingly.  Hovering like a frustrated schoolmaster gone bad, with a ruler and an eyeball.  Getting off on the licks. Dark seasons and rooms with scary ceilings, thoughts of woe and tragedy, sleepy, sleepy now.  Find your own hut, Mister.  Your dignity is homeless, its got needles in its veins, junked out, wired.  We should all care a bit less, that's all.  Care a bit less.

  You can't say that. What?  What? You can't do that. What?  What? We can't have that. What?  What? Like a cat in the hat. What?  What? And all the words we humming. All the chords we been strumming. Good Lord ain't it really something. What?  What?  What?  What? You best walk the line. Where's the line? You best find the line. Where's the line? You best toe line. Where's the line? Probably blow your mind. Where's the line? Go on step right up to it. Remember last time when you drew it. Guess that's when we really knew it. Where's the line?  Where's the line? Here's what you're gonna think. Why?  Why? Here's what you're gonna drink. Why?  Why? Here's when you're gonna blink. Why?  Why? Told you not to think. Why?  Why? When you think, bad things will appear. Start thinking bout new things to fear. There's no way to make it any clear. Why?  Why?  Why?  Why? G DD7 AmGx3 DD7x2

One topic at a time, click, click, click.  Stories on a story board, stacked like blocks.  Of anything, of views and reviews, of fluffs and duffs, enough, enough.  Squeals and fires, shots and liars.  Only the blockheads are real, they'll sing anything. Keeping the motor running, sending some oil your way.  These are mechanical devices, everything can't be in the clouds.  Chips and conductors and semi conductors.  We are the grid, make us all light up.  Make us all glow. On next month's story board, a dark winter figure will appear, dressed for cold, checking in on the WiFi.  Then after that, some terrorism or invasion or other calamity.  Sit tight, stay tuned, get your rest.  Many worries to ignore, many fools to avoid, many casters casting and casting.  Trying to hook a fish.

  Shipwreck stuck on some rocks and trees. Hadn't moved an inch in a year I believe. Til one day when the water did its thing. Headed for the falls gonna drop to the deep. Wonder if we oughta jump right off. We could make it to shore with a bit of luck. Current is rough and there's an undertow. Whitewater splashing on the rocks below. But it's our only chance to tell you the truth. The falls gonna give us more than a bruise. Just can't see no way we could survive. Staying on this shipwreck for a waterfall ride. Jump, jump, hurry now jump. Let the waterfall have this dump. Smash the ship to smithereens. Get another one, all new and clean. CGFC GFGC FFCC GCFC

We'll eat pizza all night, we'll do whatever it takes.  Statespeople of the highest integrity.  Hopefully we can get there, we can't let down the American people, we can't get away with scarfing down thin crust, we gotta stuff the crust with stuff.  We'll eat pizza all night if we have too, ain't wasting our eating capacity on salads and soda pops.  This is how the pizza gets made! The infrastructure of crust is important, we got it down, just takes some tossing and stretching, you, you know the thing.  Some tomato paste with Italian spices, spread around.  No square pizzas allowed in this pizzeria, Mammamia.  Then the cheese, then the pepperoni, or beef, or whatever, even chicken.  Artichokes and onions, yummy and delicious. This Statesperson kept on talking.  Red pepper packets, marinara sauce, strombolis, cannellonis, cannolis, calzones.  It was making me hungry and it was just past noon.  What a gig, I thought, paid to eat pizza all night.  Hope they have p

  Walked out of class to join the band. March for justice in this land. No lack of shelter, no lack of food. Down at the bottom of the protest blues. Down at the bottom of the protest blues. Got my music and I got my glow. Can watch replays of every single show. Can't help it though, I'm in the mood. Fix something quick for my protest blues. Fix something quick for my protest blues. Don't you dare look at me thataway. Take my suspension like a runaway. Didn't have to be so mean and rude. Just had a case of the protest blues. Just had a case of the protest blues. The T-shirt says it all I guess. Shrunk up, but the it's still the best. Raise our fist and stomp our shoes. Nothing can cure my protest blues. Nothing can cure my protest blues. EAD7Ex3 EDAEx2

Run for the office, waste your time on another's gold.  Mercenaries.  Fighting for a compensation line item.  Holding on so the judgment turns out right, so the evaluation is enough, just enough to be exceptional.  Get a few more bites. Respectability to others and the loss of dignity, you tell me what to say.  Alignment of the simple kind, the only kind that works.  Some sort of brilliant trinity-- excellent, expedient, and exquisite.  The E's have it.  Can't touch this. Then the story tellers, the twisters of yawns, the glitter spitters.  Utopia is nice and lush, green and full of money.  Flattery and support.  Watch for the lease and chain gang, the dotted liners, the small printers.  Move slow, knock holes, take it to the skeptics, talk yourself out.

America's not gone for good, the drawing back, the coiling, the snap will snap, we still got bills.  This is cover-up work, these are skeleton graves, these are skunky undertakers.  Shoveling hound dogs.  Their followers are imaginary, they don't exist.  Shout them down in the 1st degree. Goon scene down under, the Quarantine Resorts.  Try that here, the 2nd degree kicks in, armed and protected.  They'll move the soldiers in next, take their quarters, kick out the citizens of the 3rd degree.  Proximity.  Then the search and seizure of the 4th degree, goons don't need a warrant, evidently. Guilty until proven innocent, the 5th and 6th degrees of the often accused, but the never convicted.  No speedy trials around D.C. anymore, 7th degree of the horned helmets and capital tour participants.  Bail out the crooks of the 8th degree with a bailout fund for crooks of the 8th degree.  Not to mention the 9th degree, but get the fuck out of my space.  Get out of my state, your 1

Travelling through our life and times, and we're too deep into this galactic traffic jam.  Held up by bone headed drivers.  You know the type, purely in it for themselves, this is about them getting through, this is about their appointments, their more important appointments.  The go-get-it crowd, the gone-and-got-it crowd, the tell-you-all-about-it crowd, the kind that cut in lines, cheats.  They are #1, dangit. Nothing is the way, remove certain emotions, remove certain habits, remove encounters of the third and fourth kinds.  Juke and jive, sit in the back, react, flow with life.  These plans are a sham.  Cut your bait, give it to the sea, let the waves work, they rock, like earthquakes, like aftershocks.  Forever hungry. Bleed on, in the head, in the eyes.  The squinting, bleeding eyes.  Legacy of a rat, sluring, snipping, slinking the tail.  Undignified, uncivilized, a true rodent.  Do anything for a little cheese.  Anything at all. 

All's it take's a little elbow grease. Help you find some performance peace. Routines you do every single day. The work required to earn your pay.

  Localized and prioritized, it must be an intense effort.  Can't get lost in America, traveling around, observing and considering.  Telling you so.  Looking back has no future, remember the happy scenes, think of next time, when ideas become reality.  When we glow neon. Keep your senses, keep your wits, keep it to yourself.  Tell me more.  About spirits and dignity and humility.  Sleep on it, peace will find its way through.  Late at night, or early in the morning, or both. Resourceful and content, phasing the rituals, loosening up the habituals.  Imaginations on fire, the boiler room is steaming.  Get this thing running in no time, get this thing humming.  Words is all, all it is is words.  Just free talking. 

Chain yank day.  A lister and his mass mooning.  Water is a slow mover, like ozone, and glaciers, and acid rain.  Ignore the rules all around, mosquitos must die.  They must be demoralized, isolated, and suffocated. Trials and courtrooms. Accused, but never convicted, the gonzo life.  This seems like a gulag experiment, and America seems cool with it.  Time for some new days, some new ways, and a new phase.  Ruler rules, the easiest of all rules to break. Send this poll back, make it indicate something else, need it by Sunday.  The tabulators are fine, they tabulate in perfect math, decimal here, ratio there.  Code, code, checker board.  The vote joke.  It's on you.

  Ain't no smiles around here no more.  Despondency and resolution, the quiet skies.  Mysterious brown vans and evacuations, cheering in the Arab streets.  Grounded at zero, the liberty show must go on, music must prevail.  Taps. Tyrants always denounce tyranny with their forked tounges.  Deception is a virtue in their twisted heads, they slur hollow, self-righteous words.  They wrap themselves in false glory.  It always ends the same, without exception.  Ugly. Quit talking during God Bless America, Max Headroom.  Shut your face, quiet!  The politicians sully the day, the racial spoon must stir something always, they should be muted on this day.  Let America reflect on its own, let America remember in peace, with righteous rage, leave America alone.  On this day.

  Toss out the independent minds, things can't be thought.  Thinking could take us off the path, rationality has already been considered.  That letter won't do nothing.  Mash it in a boiling pot of potatoes, the scum floats to the top, this is Harvard's doing.  Empty are your degrees, lame are your decrees. Research in the name of hatred, enabled by envy and greed.  Dividing tools of hell.  That little devil whispering in your ear, freedom is an old idea, freedom is not your choice.  A new freedom list will be updated every Friday.  No time for questions today. The Shame Of Kabul.  Dusty brain rot, the skin greaser.  Color yourself pale grey, plug the head follicles with modern plugs.  Get some new teeth, you can't chew up America with those gums.  We won't hear you.  Freedom Of Mute shall never be denied, as the old saying goes.

  Economic access is double edged.  Drink this poison of leverage and speculation, the slow killer.  Captured addictions and routines, expectations and equity.  Invest in it all, stay busy.  Project, influence, hustle. Squash the privileged, they are privileged, dangit!  How easy they breathe, how luxurious they eat, how much fun they have, how they are adorned.  We've seen the ads.  They are smiling.  How dare those little devils smile. Smirkers are not allowed around here, the smirked can't take it.  Dishers, whiney dishers.  They got no take.  They got paper skin, thin and brittle.  The weakest kind of skin.

  Hung out at the Quarantine Bar last night.  Lots of weary, bored travelers.  All wrapped in bubble wrap.  Keep everything wrapped up tight, for protection of the wrapped, and others.  Couldn't really hear much, but it was good nodding and waving, gesturing, pointing.  Better that the Quarantine Box. Nothing but WiFi and four walls.  A makeshift toilet next to a makeshift sink.  Small refrigerator, a mini microwave, and a little portable camping burner.  Food items delivered every other day by the Quarantine Security Officers (QSOs).  Their mission, they keep telling us, is to protect, feed, and release clean. Slipped one of them a hundred to bring me an extra sleeve of soda crackers and a jar of Vegemite.  Amazing how easily a QSO can be bribed.  I was flush with vacation cash.  Dumb Suckers.  They'll miss me when I test out. 

Writing the truth in the middle of the messy show.  Books of the shadows, within the words, in form, the equal and greater reaction to the cheap illusions.  Bought for nothing, they sought it out, they craved.  Through boredom, through envy, through greed.  It doesn't matter, they took the bait. And the literal bullshit is coming, cows must be done away with, their slaughter must end.  We got almonds for milk, we got the beef cooked up in the labratory.  According to sources, it's a bit rubbery, but tasty.  I'll trust what sources say, my grandparents were ranchers, gotta have that ribeye texture, gotta have that marble drip. Days of hot sun and motorcycle jumps, huge noon lunches with gravy on the side, cold soda pops in the afternoons, sweets late at night.  Orchards and gardens that produced.  Burn outs and skids, workshops and barns.  Big fields and woods and mesquite trees. Tanks.

Declare victory from the scenes of treason.  The dirty dog, who leaves the war dogs behind.  Along with the women and children, along with the guns, along with the choppers, along with the hummers.  This demoralization is complete, we are demoralized no longer.  We are lit. The incompetent move aside, these 13 should be alive.  Roll your eyes, bastard.  Laugh it off, slime.  You are not courageous, you are not a hero, but you got serious nerve.  Seriously, you got some sick nerve. Shuffle on, groper.  Slur some more.  Drool on your mask, comb the oily strands of hair back.  Ten percent of the buck stops with the big guy.  His standard rate.

  GCDGx4 Come over here, but I know that you won't. Could beg you to love me, but I know that you don't. When I say it don't matter to me. It ain't you, just trying to find a little peace. CGx3 DCG We can drive this road, go on and on. Til we die like we said when we were young. Through the night, no need to get a room. Keep driving, we'll be home real soon. Late that morning, when August got hot. With little warning, we thickened the plot.   Change of plans, I know what I need. It ain't you, just trying to find a little peace. 

Pay the tuition, inject the juice, zip it shut, mask over those noses please.  Quiet in the back!  Single file now, six feet apart, don't go down that way, it's closed over there, cell block 9, we're marching to cell block 9.  Might get hurt down that way, we all understand.  Don't want a warning, a citation, or a reprimand, got to get a degree, must get a degree. The outside world, the free, live in a different way.  Ideas of their own, reasoning.  Eyes aren't glazed and sure of everything, the outsiders are skeptical, they are curious.  They ask, they talk, they go and do.  They laugh and giggle and crack up. Let the risk be rewarded, step out into the open.  Gasp some air way down deep in the lungs, muffle out the exhaust.  Confinement is like hazardous waste, it glows in the dark, it's radioactive material.  Hear the motor sounds, hear them hum.  Hear them move.

  Political criminals of all kinds, the ways of this back alley world.  The street class, the road grease, the pavement.  Hustling like laughing hyenas, pointy shoes and briefs.  Eyes of lies. Everybody gonna be got.  Gonna get the getcha getcha.  That ultimate end to our life and times, the final beat of a worn out heart, the last breath of sweet oxygen.  A full memory card. The times is the thing, rips and roars.  The who's and them's.  Exaggerated stories of uncommon occurrences, flashes of brilliance and unusual insight, known names.  Names of fame.  Consequential times of your life.

And that's O.K., to sit in the seat of privilege.  Regardless of our ignorance.  Good to know.  Agent for change, a fighter.  In the blood, in the DNA somewhere, a natural, ingrained. Being aware, plotting, rapping.  This is brilliant stuff.  Spectrums of inclusions, in depth studies of impacts, richer conversations.  Those that take offense, those with causes.  Rail. Compliments are compliments, know the backhand is not there.  We are only opening doors for the ladies.  Gentlemen are still cool. The absurd is easy to spot, it's usually circular.  Then, and only then, the absurd mutates.

Stick it with your control measures, they don't work around here.  Signs have no influence.  Gibberish.  Eventual litter, blights.  Signs say nothing. Oblivious to your guidelines and policies, they are not mine.  Your creeds are bland, your proclamations are weak, your mandates are ignored.  Your bans are irrelevant, your muzzles are broke.  Intentional disobiedience, planned, perfected, taught.  We shall speak. Rock the mock, loudly.  Pile on, with truth and class, and some perfect vulgarity to make it fucking stick.  Little clowns they are, little Mao clowns.  Shame throwers who won't show their faces.  Laugh them off, shun them, escape the dull dim.

Toss the withering flowers, replace them with the fresh cut.  Keeping the inventory high.  Colors to burn, the dull must check out.  Bring it down some place else, somewhere else.  Walk the muck. Tentative and shaky. Undetermined, unmotivated, uninspired.  Even MoJo took off, sped on down the road, never looked back.  Off to some hyped up hullabaloo or some hoity toity whispering tea.  To be seen, heard, and known. Large amounts of quality over quantity.  Frivolous pursuits, pipe dreams, and delusions.  Enjoy them too.  The trail goes on forever, it loops and loops, it rewinds, but it changes with the seasons.  Time for this, time for that.

  Slow living. Feel the body, the mind's a mess. Soul giving. Learn karate, cut the whacko stress. Sun rising. See as many as you possibly can. Describing. Sad endings, rarely goes as planned. And each day that passes away. Is another brilliant day. Another day to create. There's no time for hate. Screen gazers. Too much gazing and it burns your brain. More lazing. Quit wasting your American dreams. GD/CG-x2//AmEm/AmCDD7-x2

Tyranny at home, cowardice away.  This tragedy of incompetence, this built-in excuse, this justified farce.  Pay no mind, they are spinning their tops, their brains are scrambling, they're licking ice cream.  Unfazed, falling in line, frenzied eating, like rats.  The big guy tyrant was there all along, getting greased, getting his 10%.   A masked diversion, the mandate mandates.  The blinker class.  Don't have to live like the refugees, call in the damn torpedoes.  Your response is empty, your response is weak.  Call the scene as it's seen.  The truth was it unfolded quicker than anticipated, their heels were busy.  Demonize the lovers of liberty, scape the goats, erase the evidence.  The mushees will slurp anything down, they'll believe anything the mushers mush up.  They echo, they go along, like dogs hoofing for treats.  Wag, drool, sleep in your cage.

These made up realities.  Look around, see the truth, the games, the fabrications, the suppressions, the data.  Figment of evil, a manifestation of greed.  Inevitable perhaps, but still sad, still too damn bad.  Stay away, let me be. The oddsters are calculating.  Hunches, guts, math, experience, human nature, viral nature.  Speak to the few, the masses are illiterate.  The masses are caught up in the net.  They are like tuna, the real kind. Anger is no good way, let justice and karma work it out.  The angry will stay mad, in all of mad's forms.  Hysterical laughter can cure a soul.  And music, of course.  Attend, help, and pray.

  CDX2 CG CDDG Behind the shades thoughts a'flutter. Singing it crisp without a stutter. Finishing off each and every line. Picking melodies and busting ryhmes. Stomp the floor with a tambourine. The Harp honks, the lyrics bleed. Keep it quiet between the tunes. Jam all night, howl to the moon. DCG CG X2 Those audience eyes. Glassy and stoned. Those audience cries. The wails, the screams, the moans. What's the worse that could go wrong. A broken string, or a butchered song. Originals covered up with the covers. Bout bandits, and jokers, and heartbroken lovers.

EAB7Ex2 Lays down the beat. Keeps money time. She's a pocket player. She'll blow your mind. Hits the groove. Bing bangs the snare. She's a pocket player. She's got funky hair. B7Ex4 Drummer girl plays it strong. Drummer girl plays it long. Drummer girl plays behind the band. Drummer girl gongs her gong. Brings the pop. The herky, the jerky. She's a pocket player. With a touch of quirky. Golden cymbals. And a sweet high hat. She's a pocket player. She go rat-a-tat-tat.

  GC/FC/FC/GFC Molecule for molecule. Inoculations and ridicule. What about infection rates, Deaths and cases in lockdown states. Molecule for molecule. Take my take, I've been to school. Bodies and minds and souls in tune. Stay moving, stay immune. Molecule for molecule. Panicking mobs and useful fools. Seasonal virus, like seasonal flu. What's bullshit, and what's true. Molecule for molecule. Manipulate and lose your cool. Create some shame to pass around. Divide the folks and shut them down.

  She got good shoes. Oh yes, she do. She got pairs in blue. Got pairs that're new. I'm just your average dude. Don't really have a clue. But I know, yes I know. She got good shoes. Those shoes she's got. Are really hot. Tied tight in double knots. They help her when she trots. Boot kicking like robots. High heeling like big shots. But I know, yes I know. Sweet shoes she's got. EAx3 DAE

  Cut that 45. Look em in the eyes. Cut that 45. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Look at him sneer. Bring the gals to tears. Look at him sneer. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Crying all the time. You ain't nothing but a hound dog. Crying all the time. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. Suspicious minds. Figure we'll be fine. Suspicious minds. Memphis city heartbreak night. Memphis city heartbreak night. GGCG CCDG CCGC DDCGx2

  Wait at least two weeks after the final dose.  To be clear about your status.  To belong.  To enjoy thy presence.  To bask. The travel life, like in the magazines.  An operator, intentionally oblivious to any restraint, acting welcomed anywhere.  In front of the front row, asking intentionally obvious questions, eyeballing.  All the while, unknowingly agitating.  Scorned, in a way. Reveal nothing of yourself, there is little point in revealing.  This is on principal.  Freedom of shoulder, freedom of butt cheek.  The Vetenarians know, some animals are just animals, their minds are closed.  They may be your friends, but you are not theirs.

Ambivalence and the apathy pile.  Growing bigger by the day, those things not worthy of care.  The care worthy really shine brighter and clearer now.  Reduces the sweats, minimizes the worry, promotes chill.  Some despise the cold. To them, blankets!  Cover it up, layer it up, mask it up, button it up, zip it up, and shut it up.  Keep it tight, live off the warmth of others, try to remain calm.  Drink warm drinks.  Hats, scarfs, keep the ears covered.  Hear no evil.  They are not at the table, they don't understand peace.  Music must be free, there is no toil, there is no mission.  It's just made.  It just sounds.

Everyone freeze, stay still, breathe lightly.  The air is tainted somehow, state to state, town to town.  The lockdowners are jerking their knees, it's all they know, it's what they do, they panic.  Poiseless.  Without cool. Intentional and unrelenting, the kookie keep blabbering.  It's become a humlike noise, a ticker tape, an alert, a notification.  Delusion food. Dole it out, the delusional must eat.  Like teenagers, the dumb and cleaned are always hungry. Divide the masses.  Pit.  Stir.  Create sides, take sides.  Confuse.

Tired of guidance, sick of recommendations, worn out on declarations, and apathetic to proclamations.  Bluster and his cousin Squeal.  Words of blah.  No form, no thought.  Blurts. Rationality and the check out, gone to the islands for awhile, gone exploring, gone America.  When the whiners kept whining.  The worst of all traits, even the whiners agree.  Annoyers are different, the come from the agitator tribe.  They have a sense of humor. Whiners are no fun, everything must suck, and all must be told of the suck.  Convinced, eventually, but either way, all does suck and will suck.  In that whine voice, from the back of the throat.  The squinted eyes, the raised upper lip, the eww face.  Ugly. 

The Big Ignore Snore.  Insurrections have lost their edge, nothing like the French. Or the Lybians, lots of walking around, lots of chanting, lots of single file, some prayers.  Be interested to see all the tapes.  Tragic about that vet gal, God bless her and her family. These DCers are people to ignore, people to shun, people to avoid.  You will smell them, America is known for its collective bull dung detector.  There aren't that many cleaned brains.  Rational is the new intellectual, the intellectuals are out of intelligence.  They irrationally bore things to death in think tanks. Spoiled ruiners, they ruin for sport, they ruin sports.  Five rings of a cartoon, the ratings are fake, they are worse than reported.  The middle finger don't work on the middle class.  Time is ours, we devote it freely.  We spend it how we want.

Spy, spy, put me on the list, rip off my mask and read my lips. Cry, cry, stand with a fist, dwell on the past, get all pissed. Divide, divide, go inside, lock up the doors, run and hide. Alright, alright, pick a side, take it no more,  gonna multiply. Peeking through your windows, looking through your screens. Wonder what they do with all the things that they see. Listening through your walls, bugging all your halls. Even your private noises, your primal screams and calls. Signs, signs, ignore them too, whizz right by, you know what to do. Times, times, find your own news, the true kind, the kind that's true. Pretend, pretend, it was way back when, chicks were chicks, and men were men. Amend, amend, we will defend, through stones and sticks, and the boogieman. EADEx4 ADx3 EDA

This is beyond protocol, the robots are shut off, the inspectors are milling around, the bureaus are active.  Alert the commission, they'll want to know.  Minds are gone, off and away, in the clouds, unseen rationality of the outsiders.  The sense of the common folk. The Cootie War has begun.  Variants are awaiting word, ready to take it to the vaxxes, the sneaky injectors, the poisoners, hysterical maniacs with everything to lose.  As many jabs as you can handle, unlimited.  Certified and stamped on papers.  Cooties are being hunted down, the few that get past the immunes are shot on site, sometimes twice, even three times. General Johnson disagrees with General Johnson, Major Moderna don't care, he's flanking something, enlarging somewhere, and Rear Admiral Pfizer has a real problem with the Deltas, no way they'll stop the Alphas, the Alphas swim upstream, they go for the DNA Strands.  Nothing they can do then, they lose the DNA Strands, they lose it all.  So righteo

This virus data is whacked.  Numbers appear, but they seem sketch, they seem random, they seem manipulated.  Regardless, the idiots talk.  Nothing is that weird about green tea.  Debunk the mights and maybes, use your brain. Logic is flawed, assumes too much, any benefit of the doubt is enough.  Apparently.  Play your own odds, keep your cards down, rats are at the table.  They peek with the sideways eyes, they peep.  Sweat beads above their lips, dead giveaway. The cheaters are in charge of the cheating for sure.  Cut those corners, look the other way, grease the gears.  The best place for deception is out in the open, unsuspecting, in the faces.  Audacity of mope.  Beware, the frowners are around.

Got no jokes, but funny things occur.  Starts with the looting.  Angry envy, there are no starving looters.  None that I've seen.  The Stoics say give anger a day of thought before taking action, let the envy simmer, let it sizzle a little. The authorities have demanded your papers, whip out the passports.  Or, you'll be reported.  And being reported is all we need to figure out the group of rational citizens.  Don't ask, don't tell.  Get the fuck out. Is the NBA still on?  Gave up Coke, or any other fizzed up, sugared up liquid.  Keep your dignity, folks.  It's essential and required.  Opportunity is usually found, it rarely knocks.

Scene of the crime, the Missouri Botanical Gardens.  Illegal beauty.  Acres and acres of green, serene, lush, maintained grounds.  Goddess statues and stories, a tropical dome, lily pad ponds, trees of every origin, and Robert Shaw's Italian villa.  Nature's best face. Surrounded by red brick structures, red bricks all over.  This town is crumbling.  Louie, Louie, oh no, me gotta go.  Ayi-yi-yi-yi.  Dump your old dreams into the Mississippi River, send them to the sea. Narrow are the roads, tense are the neighborhoods.  No quaintness.  Broken cars and broken windows.  The Spirit of St. Louis is dull and despondent.  Dim. 

  The trailer industry is booming.  Load up on cash, some traveling money.  We'll hit the Oklahoma fruit and vegetable stands on the way back.  They're all over.  Must be good business, everybody needs to eat. This road was paid off long ago, but the Turnpike Tollway circus continues.  Just as well, although they should round up to the nearest dollar, coins are a dirty hassle.  Could send along the suggestion, but the stubborn Okie Turnpike Authority wouldn't listen to a Texan even if the math is better.  They'll get the same traffic at $3 that they get at $2.75. Funguns and beef jerky made a fine meal.  Way better than Country Bob's in St. James, Missouri.  Despite the billboard promising hand cut steaks, the place reeked of moldy, milky mildew and wet cigarette butts.  Questionable ventilation, questionable sanitation standards, questionable all around.  Oh well, on to St. Louis.      

The day after, early start, late finish.  Firecracker aftersmell, we showed them last night, we declared.  All the twisting, all the bias, all the larceny, the tyrants had their run.  The professional government, the real shakers, the in-betweens, the oozing kings, the slippery queens.  Prepare the feathers, cook up some tar. Bring back common sense of the common mind.  The brilliant have squandered their opportunity, they are brilliant no longer.  Inventors take over, make something outlandish.  Prevailing thoughts should be your own, don't believe the dimmers, the end of the worlders, the fretters.  Rest easy. Keep the spirit of '76, twelve generations strong.  American stories full of hope, cursed with despair.  We shall overcome again and again.  Collective of independent minds beginning to howl together.  The general mood.

Varient schmarient.  Evidently, a shot is all we need, unless the shot don't work, unless the shot is whacked.  Consult your doctor.  Patience.  Wait it out, catch and defeat. Days are all their own, they do not return, they are not repeated.  The illusion of next year is a hope trick, daily survival is what matters.  Daily striving.  Daily thriving.  Daily giving. Whisper into the microphone a bit louder, your words are slurring, sir.  A real thin skinner, like a glossy paste.  Save the sympathy, let humility lurk, let karma come around.  What goes up must come down.  The blood, the sweat, and the tears.

Shaded parkways, across the street townhouses, brick sidewalks.  The dream came true.  Premonitions.  Street tacos at Mexican Sugar.  Boutique colors and urban skylines. Class is dignity, class is kindness, class is funny.  Daughters of their mother, indeed.  Attention, pay attention.  Look and listen.  Look for lights. Headache eyes, rest up.  Like purple roses for the lids.  Step out proud, don't let people tell you what to do.  Suggest, observe, tap your toes.  Make a melody. 

  Blue bird bore for sure, no one cares about the chirps anymore.  Edge is lost.  Transparency of our gutter and deactivation rebellions.  New modes emerge.  New ways. Worse than ever before, the shaky press, the crumbled rubble, the pebble pile.  Escalator going down.  Gonzo.  Static activists, stale and dumb.  Chewing gum while whining.        No worries, the truth prevails.  The dishonesty is tremendous.  A group of cheaters, do the boarder dance.  Busy, busy, endorsing, working, working.  Shine on you crazy diamond, shine on.  

Fund the inspectors, crank up the audits.  These tyrants hide behind their words, saying nothing, telegraphic sneers.  Promised a hot, bloody summer weeks ago.  There was no conversation, just a crack down, just a crack up.  Cannons are not allowed. Start with the trigger, go from there.  Blabber more about strike forces, perhaps stop the vandalism, city destruction, and death, despite stitrring it up last summer with your racial spoon.  Hear us good, old fool.  Your programs are infested with your vile, twisted greed.  Emergency fumigation is needed. Drone, drone some more.  Announcement about jurisdictions and coming together.  Knee deep in bribes, accused stalker, proven groper.  The American flag looks embarrassed, he doesn't belong near it.  But it's still marvelous, with its red, white, and blue.   

Automatic analytics, moving on.  Take notice.  Work it out, from all angles of curiosity, even from the devil's advocates.  Those devious dogs, those hot rats, those thirsty for blood and money.  Think. Conclude, it is what it seems.  This vaccine economy, this sea of signs.  Disintegration, ash.  Heap, heap, hooray, heap, heap, hooray!  Plenty of shame in the rock yard. Mock away, it's the only way forward, there is no other response.  Anger is pointless, sadness is sad, and now is not the time for apathy.  Challenge the minds, seek rational race theory.  Exist.  Enjoy.

  The heat of it all, the swelt.  Triple digits and the wave.  Too much Fahrenheit, pull down the extra shade.  Cool off with cold white wine, drop in a cube.  Discovery mix. Mosquitos must die, best they were never born, or hatched.  However they get here, damn them to hell quick.  Poisoning, swating, electrocution.  Draw blood.  Lather the deet,  keep watch. Sinister people are among us, bent on authority.  But, we're not gonna take it, no we ain't gonna take, we're not gonna take it anymore.  Because you got to fight for your right to party, all in all it's just another brick in the wall.  We don't need your education, or your conversation.

  Not scared of the sticks or stones neither.  Get it on, conversationed out.  Brick walls are boring, they crumble eventually.  Bad acoustics.  Ugly. Like a desert mirage.  Intellectually, you know there's no water.  But thirst hopes, thirst believes, thirst convinces.  Without training, the human mind is easily manipulated.  Without water, the human mind is dry and dusty. History happened, but it's not all that important anymore.  Maybe for grudges, resentments, regrets, and envy, if we must.  For glory and knowledge and inspiration perhaps.  However, t his day is most important, most incredible, most delicious, most essential.  The future is at stake.

Consider the got duped bias, most want to avoid looking taken, punked, or moronic.  Shame corrupts data.  Something about suckers, gullible suckers.  Been around since humans were humans, we've all been there.  Same thing with dogs, they keep going for the fake. No looting this afternoon that I can see, all races are out and about, pigments of indescribable description, beautiful brilliancy all around.  No bonfires either.  Thankfully.  Wood's a bit high, the lumberjacks are raking.  Lumber lobby grease, no doubt. Citronella burning.  Mosquito war.  Jokerman dancing to a nightingale tune, a waltz on the patio.  Spin.  Spin. 

Let's all be scared of the Boogie Hackers.  Russian, of course.  Gas, meat, maybe orange juice is next.  Vitamin C deprivation will sink us all!  Save us, Jesus, save us, Joe. In truth, these companies got scammed, probably cut corners protecting their data, made the profit line look nice a few quarters ago.  May they fail!  Better run companies will emerge, meat ain't going nowhere. U.F.O.s without aliens is nothing.  Bringing out all the hysteria, whipping it up, boogie, boogie, boogie.  Varients!  But the citizens are apathetic and calloused, a bit less gullible.  They seethe.

Many are 6 feet under so we can do our things.  They won the wars, let's not spoil the spoils.  The passes were tight spirals, the handoffs were clean, put your thumbs down to bring it home.  Keep your eyes open, get up field.  Race. Man up, man.  Stay cool and patient.  Wait for the words, they'll create puddles of thoughts.  Drain the clouds.  Say. Unspoken, many returned and many won't talk, some can't talk.  They are heroes too.  These were their peeps, their gangs, their crowds, their buds.  Try to make them proud.  Live.

  GEmx3 DD7 Said, what would you find. If you broke into my mind. No longer blind, what would you find, what would you find. And, how would you like. If I gave it a try. If I stayed up all night, til we saw the light, saw the light. And, where will this go. No one really knows. Take the path you chose, and let it roll, rock and roll. Next time we meet again. Maybe we'll be friends. Maybe I make you cringe, on the fringe, i'm jumping in.