[spoken very fast] [whispers in low voice] [hugs the microphone] [starts right away] I'm surfing on the Joystorm, riding on the crest of a wave. Telling fast-flying tales of streaming dreaming within the womb of auk-sock-second sight maternity. De-mons in de-mons be gone, get thee behind me and see the way free: stand aside! I ride the inside of the outside of this in with the new Storm out with the old out dreamspell of the everweathering whether or not what you sow ye so shall also sew your golden thread to the incorruptible diamond-clad womb of peace that casts out pieces of pie in the sky gods getting high at the grand illusion of the mutually agreed upon reality of the featureless eraserheads in the clouds drunk with pride, drunk with power, drunk with white lightning moonshine madness. Mad, you say? Me? Never be so. For it is they who are the maddest hares in their mad ravenous scramble to eat of the apple of Numbered Things, the forbidden fruit of the tree of do you see? Do you see what happens Raptureman when you pray to a jealous gawd who is nothing but a voice in your head echoing the words that your daddy and his daddy's daddy said to you when you were two and too young to know why the father hates the son who shines brighter than he does?I am Brighter than ten trillion uncared for bipolar naziheads in the sandboxes who dare to call themselves the chosen frozen unenlightened few but who refuse to see what is lost when they crucify the children of the light, the paranoid android trustafarians who defy the lie of the duality of the you and the me for I tell thee truly wherever one of these fearless ones flies the whole hive,honey, is sweetened with the nectar of the gods, the immortal juice of the fruit of the tree of eternal life that is given freely to all who come to save all the lost sheep of family of the One Great Dreamer who is dreaming the never ending dream of waking up inside of this dreamtime story called Earth.
