Sometimes I feel like a manner of worm squelched on a wonder landscape. They kill sick animals but I am passed by. Prats and preachers tell me that to talk too much about morbidity is immature and unnecessary, I say bollocks. The extremes of the human condition has an urgency about it that is far more important than pandering to, ‘theoretical correctness.’ Millennium man likes to hide suffering and fill his head full of meat.
As I indulge myself writing this, the modern panacea with clone of the bone solutions sings out and abuses my ears with Andy Pandy choruses. They even dress up death with advertisements that assure you of a good, ‘funeral plan’.
Life and living is free but, they can’t tell you that, you must be owned cloned and controlled. I along with millions of others sold out to capitalism when the summer of 1969 ended, a music scene that was once generation led became industry led, and we gave away, “All you need is love!”
Once we had an abundance of flowers and they smiled to a hostile world, today artificial flowers sneer on an artificial world and the young are betrayed. “Where have all the flowers gone?” “When will they ever learn?”