Just Plain Bob

inescapably booby trapped in the region of self anticipating illumination with a dopey grin and a grimy determination masked by ungodly brio gimme your best shot you goose stepping goons you Ragnarok brothers of Odin and his Twinkie dancers If I weren't one of you you wouldn't exist right here where my pencil fornicates the vellum the confederation of misfits get what they deserve what do we deserve what devolved practice continues to move our arms and mouths in the direction of justice and of merit in the company of demiurges and beatitudes endlessly considering the direction of Fate in the manner of men cheetah headed and scarred yet survival requires data and survival is future so add future to your shopping list at checkout time all reality is calculable there are enough numbers and furthermore there is still enough curiosity left over from the great War of Cognitive Suppression Galactic rule number one nothing forced volitional free will sacred and deadly precious his consciousness far from its source of thought he continued without the slightest reason why of course it is all but a mental reproduction we all worship the Grand Master of Disguise a meme-written forehead in uncharted waters he slid his pawn forward to end the muddle love is not all you need you need smarts if the world is to be a correctable world fabled dons of economics playing dumb on cue corruption ran in deep ocean trenches the life spark mystery rarely discussed free from the tradition of taboos and fetishes fixation and more fixation the gaze never shifts soon swept away by their uninformed zeal and a sense of inviolate justification with which to welcome the new plantation