December 15th, 2008
The Machine Ate Christmas and My Teeth
The Modern Condition Kills Our Children,
or, Modernism Threw Out The Bath.
I dream of Mcdonalds on the street where I ate jerky,
American Christmas’s of road trains and roast turkey.
I ate a peanut yesterday on the fourth of July,
Then my foreign veins exploded anaphylactically.
American Christmas’s of road trains and roast turkey.
I ate a peanut yesterday on the fourth of July,
Then my foreign veins exploded anaphylactically.
These concrete blocks hold my great reward of swollen eye-sores,
Dust mites like trite slogans and promises of open doors.
Dust mites like trite slogans and promises of open doors.
Give me your currency, I barter my health and freedom,
Place Tesco here and I’ll adore your cold heartless kingdom.
Place Tesco here and I’ll adore your cold heartless kingdom.
Where then’s the life that advertisements promised on T.V.?,
As my baby lies swollen with modernist allergy.
As my baby lies swollen with modernist allergy.
Here then’s the worm in my gut that writhes in absolution,
Forgiving your fleshy disease that ravaged our children.
Forgiving your fleshy disease that ravaged our children.
We offered fruits of loins like keys to worlds of clean warm wards,
Only upon entering to find mankind found discord.
Take back your banks, department stores, your cranberry coulis,
Give us our corner stores, street sweetcorn and my sweet jerky.
Give us our corner stores, street sweetcorn and my sweet jerky.
Over the past 50 years, rapid technological advance and rising standards of living have transformed our lives beyond all recognition. However, our frenetic rate of advance has lead to an incredible irony. This irony is that the society we strive to, steal and murder for, worship and adore, creates massive allergic reactions by creating a micro-environment where our health is almost continually in a compromised state.
We are advanced,
We are gods,
Bow down to the collective us,
For we have created…M&S
Romans 8:22-25
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the
Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.