"My control and your control,
with paraplegic law and the
dog-soldiers of Pavlov, are
gathered on the mountain at
sunset, nervous in the red
light as if anger postponed
is somehow sane, and yelling
indistinguishable words into
the wind which will carry the
howls of hate and the sour
stench of fear to the audience,
who can tell that there's no
business like show business but
don't worry because they still
look good from a distance, in
the dark."

01/20/2008