Six Feet Under

As the demon diva’s gather together each day to strut their peacock feathers, proclaiming new shitf**kery for the unwashed to clutch their pearls over, don masks of sponges, plastic bags, and feminine hygiene pads to keep the wickedly agile cornholio virus from their nostrils and mouths – a particularly agile virus that is able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and live on inanimate objects for whatever amount of time the government and media dickheads tells us on any given day – the unwashed reach out to the gods, wondering what new sacrifices they can make.

But there are no more sacrifices to these gods of shitf**kery that need to be made.

All that is needed to stop this insanity of economies tanked, businesses ruined, lives destroyed, the poor, poorer, the rich, richer; lockdowns in place until those demons who manufacture their poke-in-the-arm-poisons that you must pay for allow you to live; mandated social distancing that keeps us wary of another just like us…a human; masks that prohibit oxygen intake; depression, suicides, terrorized just by living; no more visits from children, from grandchildren, no more of the touch from those who have loved us our entire lives, spending their last days in an assisted living facility, alone; distancing that makes us wary of laughter provided to us from another who is closer to us than some designated government marker; no more of the kiss of another, the handshake of a another human we once loved; no more the embrace of the good friend or even family member we love, for fear of contracting some shyte the government tells us to be afraid of…to be very afraid of – no more the enchanting and elegant meal shared; no more of golf rounds shared, no more of the story read to us; no more sitting next to a friend or loved one to share musical wonders, sports wonders, natural wonders, or any natural wonder that these shitholes have banned – we tuck our tail up our arses and in a scant two or three months, have relinquished our lives to dickheads in suits.

And all that is needed…in its simplest of forms, is to say NO! It’s not that difficult. It’s ‘no’ in whatever manner you might be able to say.

Folks, WTF before you say no more, to you and your loved ones demise!

“On the page it looked…nothing. The beginning – simple, almost comic. Just a pulse – bassoons…basset horns – like a rusty squeezebox. And then, suddenly – high above it – an oboe, a single note, hanging there, unwavering, until a clarinet took it  over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight! This was no composition by a performing monkey. This was a music I’d never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of God.” – from the movie, “Amadeus”

Mozart: Serenade No. 10 for Winds, ‘Gran Partita’ III – Adagio – LSO (London Symphony Orchestra) Wind Ensemble

 

 

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