There is no real direction here, neither lines of power nor cooperation. Decisions are never really made – at best they manage to emerge, from a chaos of peeves, whims, hallucinations and all around assholery.

this is america, you live in it, you let it happen. let it unfurl.

Shall I project a world?

Through the machineries of greed, pettiness, and the abuse of power, love occurs.

There is nothing so loathsome as a sentimental surrealist.

What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?

Not me, paranoia's the garlic in life's kitchen, right, you can never have too much.