Sunday, April 17, 2022

Monday, February 28, 2022

Neil Young is Dead

Last Exit from Lewisham ~ Photo by P.I.

Here at the abattoir, we partake in the slaughter
Start from our shins and work our way up
We are all numbered heads chipped and read
Bloodied nails chipped and red
We have the eyes of a bureaucrat
We have the soul of a killer
Shuffling forward onto the scythe
To offer our pound of flesh
To these morality men
These heroes who swim
In the miasma of their own plastic gene pool
Unwilling to accept the reality
That they are falling at the last hurdle in hubris
They are liberals in favour of censorship
They are calcified, inflexible
And comforted by their belief
That those who oppose them
Will be demonised
By those who don’t oppose them

Saturday, February 26, 2022

Doctor! Doctor! I feel like a pair of open curtains!


Gotta get those numbers up?
Need to keep your credibility intact?
Struggling to regain the public trust?
Why not try a triple dose of

Dr. Iscariot’s

You’ve then got to ask yourself “If this C8vid vaccination isn’t protecting me from C8vid then what the fuck is it doing?”

Friday, January 07, 2022

Do Androids Dream?


The echoes of primal violence wash over us, dressed in the transparent pornography of propaganda; Cain’s cold and covetous wrath pulses through the greedy technology of the military industrial complex while the media chants “regime change”. A complex simply aimed at the acquisition of ever more; of control and oppression; a complex that reeks of hubris fed by the vacuum of wealth; of biblical greed and the religious zeal of those who have no faith in their own belief but who are confident in the fact that they are the righteous, the chosen, the designers of our future.

But you who deem yourself children of reason; defenders of the weak; you who have always fought the injustices of the system by believing that the system is essentially fair, you are lost. The system has taken absolute control of your reason and your dogmatic self-belief and inability to see beyond the platform that has been constructed for you, allows you to voluntarily act as the system’s mouthpiece, to support the manufacture of the iron heel that will now descend upon all your reasonable beliefs.

Divided into factions too small to threaten the established powers, we will now battle it out on social media and in the supermarkets masked and unmasked, vaccinated and not. We will tear ourselves apart along the meaningless and fabricated lines between left and right, Cain and Able; when we are in truth all on the same side: the side of the oppressed, the controlled, the fodder that feeds the vacuum of wealth and enables those designers of the future to design us into mechanised delivery drones and feeders; electric sheep.

Awaken, rise up and resist.

Sunday, November 28, 2021

Barricade's Fall

We Had Different Plans ~ Gregory Ferrand

Down the double helix she slides, leg muscles accentuated through denim, face a narrow wedge cut by black eyes shadowed; purpose personified.
The waiting clang of mechanised fuckwits fidget in anticipation of their reward, to finally do what they are paid to pretend they don’t do. To draw blood.
The helix fractals outward to produce visions of horror: to each eye an individual horror composed of that individual’s particular fears.
To what end does this violence aspire?
To what heights does the assassin desire?
And when the crowds disperse; to their chicken and their beer; to their hopes and their despair; the street returns to its bureaucratic zone, grid reference fifty-one degrees North and zero degrees West.
And as normal is returned, the blood is washed into gutters by outsources street cleaners; sticker pickers and graffiti removers; by those who don’t have the benefit of choice. Or so they believe.
Down through the double dealers she glides, kicking the bricks left behind wheels, setting the world in motion again.

Tales for an attention deficit world


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