🚀 go-pugleaf

Greasywhiny lurks about on the net making blakklists of all
the people who have been so bad to him, and he'll get even
one day.  His blakkrat-like eyes bulge at the screen, waiting,
just itching for the next person to show up and insult him.
He's the one The Beatles warned you about.

Blunger is on a mission.  He bombards the lists with his
preachery, answers no charges, and imagines he is mysterious.

Underville is saving us all.  He's polite and he's got it
right.  Whack him, smack him, crack him!  He's bigger than
all that.  He will even share the Totality that is HimSelf
with you after the dust settles, because that's what he is
made of.

And Lubejibby, she's not gonna be pushed around no more.
This culture is a stack decked against her, dark socks, clip-
bored, officious highbrowisma, and nobody knows which side
of the screen they're on now.  The commercials flash inside
your eyelids; no escape.  No identity.  No karma, no dogma,
no pukey memories of aborted reachout freakout to knock your
dark socks off in the middle of a sentence with your good
buddy jimbob out in the cuntry killin thangs.  She ain't
gonna take that no more.

Sleep sleep sleep, the wires are crossing, snuggle in your
geosynchronous orbit and watch the surface of this ball sheet
over with steel, cyclonite and electricity.  NO VISION comes
down, the prince of the presence decrees, psychotics float
through the roofs of their cells, hovering above passing
judgement on us all.  Novision emerges in our crusty sleepy
eyes as a lush betrayal, our own spirits hungry for a good
joke, laugh it up!  All things pass.

Gabriel has the plan, and the bankers are in the meeting,
getting the fax, conference call cold cocked right into the
big revvvvup.  BLOW THE HORNS he says BLOW THE HORNS so they
break their lanterns and blow their horns and up go The
Psychotics! right thru the roof just like he said ssshhhaaaooow
right overhead they go by the hundreds their eyes flashing
different colors and they speak like a train wreck too fast
to understand JUDGEMENT ASSESSMENT ANALYSIS INSIGHT "personal
space" dissolves in a flood of incoherent jabbering nauseating
truth that EVEN YOU had forgotten and OH man, OH jeez

 IT'S A NIGHTMARE

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The Psychotics are hovering in place, evenly spaced.  They have
started the Big Hum now, and as we creatures quake below, our
lizard brains throb with the realization that it is just a matter
of time.  Sleep sleep sleep.