Here on Planet Pervert, the world is based on a lie. Keeping that lie alive is considered "responsible". Pursing the truth is "anarchy".
Art sends a message. It can be true, false, superficial - anything. But in a world where the ultimate rule is mob rule, does an artist find oneself censoring one's art?
Art demands absolute freedom. Anythings less is a deformity. Yes, to face ourselves is to know the horror of the crimes we've committed in the eyes of God.
Yet only truth will guide us home.
The boy fixated in horror as his life ended before his eyes. His one chance at love literally bled into the floor, her skull cracked.
Her death an accident but the argument not. He turned to face the mirror, seeing a face he'd never forget.
"Fucking asshole piece of shit. I oughtta take a baseball bat and beat the shit out of you every day for life. I can't believe you! I'm out on you forever!"
Unable to shake the simmering self-hate, he ran into the night, vowing never to forgive himself.
So much smarter than her friends! But her white-laden coworkers saw her differently.
Behind her back they called her "the Spic Chick" and even "Korea gonorrhea" because, you know, "if you ain't white, you ain't right."
They sniggered in unspoken conspiracy, relishing the day to betray her and see the look on her face.
Our Loudmouth Leader calls us the Defiant Ones, the Faithful Few who will laugh when the future arrives. The truth is just the opposite.
Our group lives in a played out gold mine but we assure the world there's gold still to be found. Our Leader goes on TV to give us a fig leaf of respectability. Fortunately, we live in a time where loudness still counts as rightness. That time will pass.
We have despair, not hope. We are lost, not saved. We have a community of lies, not love.
This is Hell.
"Stick Jesus in Dallas rush hour traffic and I guarantee you he'd sin. I'm trapped in hell! Get me out of here!"
"My tricks of denial don't work anymore. Better leave the gun at home! Don't know who I'll shoot first: me or them."
Meanwhile, back at the Billionaire Bunker:
"What will we do when the peasants finally revolt?"
"Just keep them chanting, 'We back the blue'. Then when time comes we'll use the cops to beat them black and blue!"
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Can you imagine Babe Ruth having to describe who he is but having never played baseball?
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Comedian:
My father has Alzheimers, he's starting to forget things now. I went to visit him.
We never really got along. For the past seven days I brought him a gift.
It was the same gift. [laughter]
Hey, guess who's back in the will!
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"Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold."
