Return of the King

This virtousic, gorgeous starship, keel caught in slag and frozen lava. This 500 year old Hobie 16, stored in grandmother's extra big root cellar and dragged out for the adventurous and dream sparkled shamanic girl child, who must sail to kill the reactor monster.

Every movie with a talismanic chariot, transport of some sort.

All that, and the Daughter of Godcast too. Once again, with my wrench and pliers, a chainsaw and perhaps even a backhoe, once again we hotwire, jumpstart, boost this baby metaphorically skyward.

They are trying to take us to war, once again. An unjust war, that's how you know it's one of theirs. You know, them. The Clique. We, most of us sat on our asses while the military industrial complex turned our taxes into bombs, rained the bombs down on strangers, and made america hate again. hated. We let big pharma keep sudafed on the shelves so enterprising amateur chemists could cook meth for an extra decade or two. Internment camps for American citizens, Tuskegee, Wako, corn syrup.

We sat on our asses while other folks got their asses kicked by a vague hint posing as american democracy. I say vague hint rather than communists, technocrats, banking elite because those are all stories. The full truth will certainly turn out to be stranger than fiction. Wouldn't it be amazing if Tucker Carlson came on one night and said - I thought it was the vile democrats, I thought it was chicken shit republicans who won't stand up. But holy smokes, all along... It's been corn syrup!

We sat on our asses while all over the globe, the prison planet was being set up. They've already come for the gays, the commies and the jews. Now they are coming... for us. For the most dangerous and radical people on the planet, short of the Afghan Pashtuns. Oh they've lulled us with twinkies and Breaking Bad. They've penned us up in toy prisons yards of Facebook and Twitter. Keep walking, THX1138. But you know, I believe in America, gosh darn it. I believe the people in my fat, sprawling, chewing gum covered concrete and lawn loving country are mostly pretty amazing. Brave. It's just a matter of them remembering.

What am I talking about? Flat out. The vaccines are not only not working, they are killing people. If you bother to look at what's actually happening in the world, not what dear leaders try to convince us is happening, but is ACTUAL. Half of America is not vaccinated because... they are paying attention. They are blinking in the sudden glare of headlights bearing down on them, but they are not frozen deer. We leap out of the way. Americans will get out of their hammocks, reluctantly, granted. But get out of them we will, we are.

They want us to kill each other now. You got the vaccine, you're a carrier of the new strain. You didn't get the vaccine, you're pushing away the chance for herd immunity. Two halves of America. But maybe half an America is enough, maybe half of America is all it takes to monkey wrench the latest fascistic juggernaut.

A bit tricky, a bit of a sticky whicket, what? the war is already within our borders. The government is riddled with puppets and go alongers, sure. On the other hand, what if 50% of civil servants are just rocking in their hammocks, waiting?

We see them attempting to define what we are, and their grand vision for oppressive, boring, crumby. Truly tho, we decide. we can make them become what we choose them to be. We are the many and they certainly are very few. We are as beautiful, insightful and perceptive as they are, perhaps more so. Here's a Debussy inspired Art of Noise lyric.

a work of art
or an effort to create beauty
was always regarded by some people
as a personal attack

yes they have guns and bombs and spike proteins
we have art and love and courage
there's no way we can't win
but the match is going to be EPIC

so there's my opening gambit. quietly coming back. Broadcasting again.