[This one was published in a zine called Freedom In Our Time.]
We suck the world in through holes in our form. Try fishing in those tunnels where childhood fears and social symbols swim in a sea of raw sense-data. Psychiatric nets seek to control the currents of those rivers of perception. But trying to remold vision takes vision. The mold is never complete. In this case, the vicious circle may become a noose as creations turn on the creators. Some gap appears in the cracks of the behavioralist mold through which freedom can become more than just fantasy. The nightmare existence of a dead, inactive world explodes in the faces of social engineers and prophets of totalitarianism in an ejaculatory earthquake that shakes its own foundations loose. The philosophical mish-mash of collectivism, altruism, and mysticism sinks in the toilet bowl flush of the destruction it creates. Will you sink with it? A new dawn rises a man-made one. A dawn of a thousand electric guitars with amps at full blast. Your mind is your tool, your telescope, your spotlight. Your mind is you. Lookout!