YES!! Yeh,Yeh,Yeh. Je ho ho ho. There is a truth - yes is the honest truth, I can, I will, I do. Not just praise the lord lordy lordy what a fine boy I am. Learn, as I teach - PMA is not a joke; scorn, spite and sarcasm are the spotty face of good humour, i don't deny the crap of it all and I do - put on a brave face and bluff for the good so a future there shall be. The planet is not finished and humanity could go much further for its own glory, not for an alien, alienating figure of speech such as "god." Invest in science, permit innovation, allow genetic engineering and particle physics and bio fuels - it is the destinies of a total race of peoples forever to hold in their hands - Christians and Muslims seem flakier as each day dwindles out as they plan our nemesis and anhilation, the destroyers of our peace and harmony. Rouse your sleepy head from the torpor of dread and defeatism - your ghetto's walls can be scaled by the ladder of bare faced optimism!

Z.

Take dictation, Merryweather!

Not a million sequins embellish the smoky black drapes that draw the day to a close. Past ghouls and future predicaments whose voices carry way past the latex lunar pews, charting courses of waxing water of no consequence to the speckled daisy lea.

Barring a sabbath sequester lying mewing above the candlewick counterpane, dogged roses bleat profusely at a rising bevvy of choral protuberances aka choirboys' noses.

Nehming a pretty partially parsemminated hand-reared pogue, Grizelda thought for a partially-evoluted second then froze when (bastard) time stood still. "My time is becoming stuck", gargled Grizelda.

Palsy of total griffins flatlining on the summer coastal floor, above sea level as hide they must across a timid mile or two not nearing a name to speak a tongual note.

In hale, ex hale, in hale, ex hale born, deed born deed born quick die hard die death die noble tis to suffer.

Exeunt.

Z