But You Can't Put Them Back Together.

Part of the great conspiracy which entangles and enfeebles our children before they can even get going is the 'firmament';
the firmament is the illusion of what the universe is which is used to equip children for living death in a world kept going for them like a pretty school bus with an engine that nobody sees and nobody imagines.

The engine is silent.
The engine produces no fumes.
The controls that make the engine go are invisible.
The driver is that 'nice mister Blair', or Brown, or Cameron.

The engine was forged in the 'white heat of technology'.

Here's your big surprise: we are that engine.
We are silenced.
We are never mentioned.
We are kept out of sight, off the tv and radio and out of the newspapers.

We do all the work.
We are the slaves.
We are the bastards gift to their idiotic offspring, the true 'birthright' of being British, and because we would rather act like them in order to stand aside from being slaves, we are witnesses to our own impoverishment and the collapse of the British economy of doing useful things, like a Souffle made of powder and paste.

Their dream is falling apart in their hands.

So they find ever more devious, sensitised ways to hunt us down and out, to force us to work, and if we give even the slightest impression that we would rather work for ourselves, they will see to it that we are left with neither work nor the self to do it.

They will 'hand us our daily bread in individual slices'(Elvis Costello) rather than see us inflict a moment of our own success and happiness on their consciences.

Because, you see, they care!