Thursday, 12 January 2012

Evil child comes home to convince his parents that their time is almost up.
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World Warr II  will be a war won with psychic telepathic technologies.
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Dense house party. “Five wacky English proletariat idiots” I sung to a german man following part s of me through the crowded doorways. He laughed as if it meant more than i thought. We headed instinctively for the back of the house for what we imagined might produce a garden or balcony.

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A Hex is put up on the Stuttgart Parliament’s krystal house. No paramilitary is needed for these minds, just thick glass, revolving doors and a cracking lawn. The MPs eat BBQ sauce out there. Their children run free and fearlessly. The public don’t even think of talking. They don’t seem too confused about anything that's there. There are faultlines of boundaries that only voters can pick up. The tourists don’t dare ask for a sausage in the concrete valley down below, where the cars are driven straight from assembly lines on the hill above. For residents, the airport is as close to its parliament as model-life itself and people were getting the most smeggy about the architecture of their train station.

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