It took me no time to piece together a small picture of the communication. All over the planet there is this multi-nodal conversation going on. People don't use their mouths to say what they really mean. Not always. Wouldn't matter if they did, no one speaks the same language. Everyone wants to be a virus, infect the other's mode of communication. That way, when it's all transcribed the disease has permeated the entire surface of meaning, twisted it, coiled it, and metamorphsized into something completely different. The conversation, all over earth, got a big bump in the timewave on September 11, 2002. I wish I had a machine, or better yet the extended psychological capabilities to transcribe this discussion between the atoms, the cells, the tissues, the muscles, the spasms, the chasms, the protozoa, the eukaryotes, the eucalyptus trees, and the mongeese. The misguided, misunderstood communication between humans and animals, humans and humans, cities and governments, countries and continents, windows to world.

But there's so much god damn static everywhere. It stings my skin and makes me run home, crying because I can't get a cosmic word in edgewise when my wet tongue keeps getting electrocuted by the harsh hearts behind harsh words, and the hellish actions incurred by what one may call my people, on their soil.

They are all my people. "All my sons! They were all my sons!" And maybe that makes it hurt less, I don't know. I remember waking up that morning, checking out the news on the internet, seeing what happened. And--oh, shit. Yeah. Something like this was bound to happen. Someone finally found a voice, and that voice sings no sweet words but only the words of a tired donkey beaten several times over. But that's ok, this donkey's got a point to what he's trying to say. A shame that the deaths of so many lives has, superimposed on each of their corpses, the red-white-and-blue like plaid tatooed all over their bodies. But, that's sort-of appropriate. My first thought was that this country, that I live in, was the primary cause for these events. Nevermind the way to blue I could have used to place solely the blame on the actual kill. Like I said, there is this world-wide communication going on, very few events are isolated. This, I thought, adds some spice to the conversation. A chilling turn of phrase, but only so chilling as we've never been talked to like this before. We tell countries that our hands are patting the others on the shoulder, that our country's hands are GOD's hands, and they are pushing in the right direction. In order to use the hands, they tie everyone elses hands together, saying that this is the only way GOD's hands can work. No other hands in the way. (hands across the water, (water), hands across the sky) (take these hands, throw them in the river, BURY THEM WITH YOUR HANDS!)

I have felt suspicious about my government for a long time. I don't put very much past them. It would not surprise me at all to find out that the events that happened on 9/11 were known about. That they were either allowed to happen, or that they were in some way a piece of a larger plan. This I have known since second one of the happenstance. There are forces in this world too intelligent, too calculating, and too thirsty to control the FUCKING CONVERSATION that they would do whatever it takes. Now, I make my share of George W. Bush is a stupid asshole sort-of comments. I add to the conversation in my own ways. But he is a figurehead. It doesn't matter whether externally he presents himself as stupid. On one level, he is. But he is incredibly dangerous, and more calculating as a collective organism (including the legacy, and commrades around him) than I could possibly estimate. If I've seen things clearly, EVER in my life, than the clarity that they must have is scary. Just scary. That's the stuff that makes it hard for me to sleep at night. Knowing that people aren't just messing with the conversation, aren't just messing with the static that controls the masses. But that someone is messing with the cosmic force that makes things flow. I do not doubt that a great deal of manipulation and behind-the-scenes heebie jeebies has been started on this planet. It was started long ago. Philip K. Dick called it the Black Iron Prison, I've called it the cosmic joke. But if any of you think this will be over when we straighten some stuff out in the middle east, or that our government and our leaders have the best interests of not only thier country's people and the world's people in mind, than you have a suprise coming your way.

I wait patiently for my zeppelin to come. I try to add little wrenches into the conversation. It doesn't matter what I try to do though. Most people are content to just like Ike, I fall through the cracks more each day.