No Guidance - Taiwan Williams
"You cant handle the truth!"
Col. Nathan R. Jessep.
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
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Bob Dylan, "Masters of War"
So, let’s get started.
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But first. What’s Twitter graffiti? During the course of dedicated microblogging ventures via Twitter, I’ve issued agglomerations of individual tweet thought quantum morsels and idea orts on a panoply of subjects in quotidian frequency and in burp gun splatter and slumgullion gumbo style. They’re connected in theme at times but actually represent tiles of the mosaic. Put together or individually they enjoy a singularity but the joy is in the critical mass compression that this provides. (I trust.) The collective blast. The Gestalt. So, if you’ve the inclination and gumption, gaze upon these stitched threads.
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In America you can make up your own facts. Whatever suits your purpose. You can make up history, medicine, science, anything. Name it. Just say it. And if five people repeat it, it’s true.
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There is nothing wrong in randomness. Not everything has meaning. Not everything has purpose. Not everything is directed by some overarching source of control. Entropy and random disorder are in and of themselves mighty forces working in tandem as universal vortices. See?
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America has become a banana republic. And I’m being kind.
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Lionel Nation
CORONAVIRUS - US EMPIRE GAINS - BILLIONAIRES GAIN
Radio
Bonus Ball
Warrior
Truthscoop/ Top Ten
India
India India
You're my love song
India you're my love song
In the flowers
You can have me in the flowers
We will dance alone
And live our useless lives
India stupid on the carpet floor
India stupid on the carpet floor
We dance upon the carpet floor
And reel around
India India India India India
I'm American ha ha ha
India
Caroline is really great
She serves the muck
Upon a tray
And little rich boy don't you cry
You kiss me in the anodyne
See the ceiling raining spit
The beach is backwards isn't it
India don't you cry
India see the ceiling raining tears
You will cry a thousand tears
All the women form a line
Put your face upon a line
This is for the discotheque
This is stupid I object
And I love you and I love you
And please me please me please me
Please me please me please me
Please me please me please me
India India India India