The Great Wake 22: Send Powdered Milk

 

Peek-a-boo, we see you.  The professional panicers, the loons, the irrelevant.  We've moved on, we're not in a war, we say what we want to say, we call it like we see it.  Like always.  We ignore signs.

Watch that looting, the market crash and grab, just like televisions from Target.  Same element, masked Mercedes theives.  Snagged all the bread, guess they got mouths to feed.  Woe to the underprivileged, send crates of peanut butter and jelly, send powdered milk.  This will be a managed decline.

Might as well jump, like 1984.  We've seen the toughest around, roll with the punches, put your back against the record machine.  You know what I mean.  Ignore the worry, ignore the anxiety.  Fly above the story.