Danger's Over, Banana Breakfast Is Saved.

The Reality Is In This Head. Mine. I'm The Projector At The Planetarium, All The Closed Little Universe Visible In The Circle Of That Stage Is Coming Out Of My Mouth, Eyes, And Sometimes Other Orifices Also.

A Number Of Frail Girls... Prisoners In The Top Room Of A Circular Tower, Embroidering A Kind Of Tapestry Which Spilled Out The Slit Windows And Into A Void, Seeking Hopelessly To Fill The Void: For All The Other Buildings And Creatures, All The Waves, Ships And Forests Of The Earth Were Contained In This Tapestry, And The Tapestry Was The World.

They Plot, They Plot, Sleeping Or Afoot They Never Let Up.

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.

We Are Here Among You As Seekers Of Refuge From Our Present-your Future-a Time Of Worldwide Famine, Exhausted Fuel Supplies, Terminal Poverty-the End Of The Capitalistic Experiment. Once We Came To Understand The Simpl...truth That Earth's Resources Were Limited, In Fact Soon To Run Out, The Whole Capitalistic Illusion Fell To Pieces. Those Of Us Who Spoke This Truth Were Denounced As Heretics, As Enemies Of The Prevailing Economic Faith. Like Religious Dissenters Of An Earlier Day.