Confronting the actual issues rather than synthesizing new adjunct, ancillary cliches to relate to, to imply deeper to than could ever be, without of course the imagination, references to time ago, common faces, certain songs, acts or places, as a setting common to attaching tendrils to in common or close, and making a totem, an Idyl, a landmark…. Which now is taken by television, so that huge numbers of peoples are precisely patterned simultaneously for hours with drivel about the slave life mentality and emotionally engineered politics so that predictable results of attitudes traits and habits pour forth on cue to reinforce the stupid setting, the matrix, Sims original, which runs on recreational sex and alcohol, and reduced perceptions. What cha wanna do with my body?

 

And why, and what’s it to ya? Does it buy the vote for the end of imfamy, does it come with threat, or the sense that it doesn’t matter or who knows as long as you do it with them too, in a pyramid adventure that’s gonna peak before the pollution crashes through….at least that's what they told ya at the lodge, tall a fruit cutie, it’s a National Tampoon… and none of your business , and none too soon…. Until somebody asks ya if ya gonna eat that, or perhaps, do ya mind if I peel your banana??? And the lights go down.

 

There is emotional suspension, there is sexual tension, but not the true….. The lingering erectil mentioning tingle and tactile but not tantra, and the accompanying juices, and the practiced moves of the fast and loose, seeking reprisal against, first: the tooth fairy OR santa clause, then the leadened let down of incomplete explanation and unfulfilled imaginings, spread like manure from the wasteland of don’t know what to do and never thought it would be this much work….according to
The amount NOT spent on you. And those of that ilk notating the topic ever closer to what entertains them when the alcohol flows and the smoke is chill…..just programmed animals jumping through their hoops, and when lucky, pumping out the Hi-q... indigents to act and pretend to have the key to the maze, the Labyrinth of lower vibrations and the way it is, only in another universe, another language never uttered or refered to but powerful and controlling… which it does in spite of the second nature, all around of its second class stature… and so the hierarchy of the dispossessed struggles on in the confines of a totally useless system as all the actors think they are acting… while just above the action is doting minders, minding the action, playing bumper cars and 8 ball with the buzz words and triggers of the closed units and never suspecting any other level could even occur, much less be cogent in the arena of the dickhead game, the one that ruled the nations and had blood and money as its fame. So far this sensation has numbed the tooth, relaxed the sphincter, and notified central of impending doom to the maintenance of
Aloof, of aware, of consciousness -as juices flow in places no one knew they could, and drastic changes in the Nebedchadnezer Model make less sense now but have NO meaning at all.

-Nzo Nelson