Saturday, December 12, 2009
Saturday, November 07, 2009
another time, another place
twice six times human blood gore. You know? when you half noticed the media
stuff. when uou took the time to ignore. half dressed in sulfur helium. Hellish
snobish people would say...(OH WOULD THEY) send it down. like clever BEAUTFUL
WORDS. yes? Oh thanks.
sounds used to absorb me. But now they just seem bore me.
well that is reaaaaaaaaaallly interesting I
heard you had an intelectuallll problem with existening WELL AINT THAT SO
INTEresting and trail offffff trail offfffffff so it don;t hurt so bad..
but hurtt is your friend. And when you step in puddles and step on that school bus
hurt is your friend. And when your stare at the moving shapes out the window.
Hurt is your only friend. And when your best friend laughs and punche syou in the
stomache cause he know it wont bruise just stare at him stare him in the face and
take a part in this life you've made. Rememeber that you can only remember it when
your are in destress. Dresssssss for the occasion DRESS FOR THE OCASSION. Pull
your 28 30ro jeans and smile proudly into your lovces pathetic uterus and know that
everything is ok cause your wasteline abstacts all obstacles. And while all is
laughing in the backround you can take comfort in the fact in th fact that you are
not the one. You will never be the one to complete anyones heart. Take breathes
from the lungs from a hopefull women strike fear into the breast of wondering
women. Tell her everything will be alright. The fear will pass. You will take
your child into her and she/he will feel wonder in your eyes and she will crawl
into your lap and experience perfentectrience perfection perfection. Wont it bbe
awkward and wont you feel the reality of being alone in the eyes of innocence
trying percieve what you have found to be contrived and unrealistic. maybe she
will make real those dreams you've given up on. Maybereality wont hit so close to
homemaybeyouwillbreatheinthoseeyesandsummer wilsquueelsfrm uuuuuuuuuuo... l
numbers closetothat equation you've ffelt to be real along. breathomg deep those
breathes that tv and movies with sequels and sequels and (she squeeeeeeels) from.
Hey remember when it used to come easy.
This brings me back to I dont know when my my my oh my. scribble scribble scribble scribble asiogh srhgiasurghiaurhgiahrgiu sagagagagahahhaha
nothing nothing nothing
of my mouth. To be honest the blood is mostle a medium. You know...gotta look
like stuff and what not.
Spit onn yer coins each one will make you a million. a million lucky divorces
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa thousand meaningful compromises. a good
ratio considering considering cosidering the death of your fathers and mothers and
your sister oh sister. What you would give. What would not you give haha to give
it back. wouldnt wouldnt wouldnt you eat alive the cons quences thhe lovely oh no
nothings into how ever ever into nothing bleed the sour taste into seemng
neeeethers never no not nothings oh no oh how no oh now its too too too too soon.
dont say it now. screaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam into that shell. hear the ocean pour
it's love back into, like little hermits eating your food. Taking your children.
Murdering your wives. Pouring permenant truthes into you that you can't take back.
Things that permantly effect you. You look at your familiars and cant take back
the pathetic things you feel towards them. JUST TRY And reconcile. HE WAS A
HERMIT HE FUCKED HIS LIFE TO SHIT AND WASNT IT WORTH SOMGINT HAHA IT WAS WASNT IT
HAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA HE SPLIT HIS SEMEN INTO SOMETHING REPICABLE. hello im the bit
of tissue in your bathroom th ebit with the blood on it, the twitch with next on
it, the somebody with the thoughts in it you know? the haha with the sckafucks in
the shit feild hahsahoudighas kdhgas fuck fuck fuck ahahaha ghasiudhgaisoudhg wfuck
me.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
Diaspar and Lys
its been all too long since ive gotten myself into this routine again, and i like it. what is it about humans that make them seem so self-sufficient and productive at one moment and complete drones at another? ive always wondered that... perhaps some people dont have this ultimate dilemma cast upon themselves, but those people are neither here nor there....
i hope you make the best use of your time, or rather, do something you truly enjoy that makes you feel less transparent [unless such things dont regard you, then bug off]
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
A Separate Thought
Seventy years ago, many families survived their short lives within the confines of banana plantations. Ladino land owners forced them to work endless days under tropical heat to cultivate bananas for an elite (and mostly white) class in the US that was increasingly infatuated with exotic fruits from colonized lands. The majority of banana workers toiled for the United Fruit Company (UFCo), a US firm whose written policy commanded "all persons of color to give right of way to whites and remove their hats while talking to them." Union busting took the form of bullet holes in brown flesh.
UFCo rose to power with the help of General Jorge Ubico. He was a brutal and megalomaniacal dictator who began his thirteen-year tyranny acting in the interests of a ladino ruling class. After direct pressure from the US military, he rearranged his priorities by opening his country to foreign domination. Nearly two thousand US troops were deployed in Guatemala after Ubico signed an agreement that gave the foreign soldiers unlimited access to the country's transportation and communication infrastructures. In exchange, Ubico received a fortified base on the country's Caribbean coast, three million US dollars in military equipment, and the enthusiastic support of the superpower to the north. In this way, Guatemala's colonial power structure was updated for the twentieth century. Instead of a European empire allying itself with the local ladino elite, it was the US that pulled the strings of the Guatemalan ruling class.
There was money to be made. UFCo received a treasure chest of concessions, including complete exemption from taxation, access to a cheap workforce of impoverished indigenous people, and rulership over a country that US historian Cole Blaiser later called "economically a captive of the United States corporations." UFCo owned all infrastructure of telephones, telegraphs, and railways. Its train cars chugged bananas to Puerto Barrios, the only Carribean port in the country which was owned by the firm, where tariffs on all goods entering or exiting Guatemala were paid to UFCo. A fleet of fifty UFCo freighters then ensured that the fruit reached US consumers. Mayans cradled their malnourished stomachs in UFCo's fields and watched bullets pummel unionizers into the fertile soil. They would never be able to visit the privileged lands to the north where rich people peeled bananas to entertain their bored tastes. Meanwhile, Ubico surrounded himself with stone busts of Napoleon and UFCo's chief magnate Zemurray reclined behind the opulent white columns of his New Orleans estate. Later, Zemurray's vice president left the firm and wrote that UFCo chose Guatemala "because at the time we entered Central America, Guatemala's government was the weakest, most corrupt and most pliable. In short, the country offered an ideal investment climate, and United Fruit's profits there flourished for fifty years. Then something went wrong: a man named Jacobo Arbenz became president."
Arbenz was a president during half of the period which has often been called "The Ten Years of Spring." In 1944, Ubico was finally ousted and elections were held. A young university professor named Arévalo was chosen as president and the governmental structure was democratically reformed. After Arévalo's five year term, Arbenz was elected into office with an even more daring vision for change. Under his leadership, democracy flourished, wages increased by 80 percent, and UFCo paid its first taxes in the history of Guatemala. Arbenz began to build a public port on the Caribbean and a rail line to compete with UFCo's shipping monopoly. Secret memos buzzed concern from UFCo to its allies in governmental offices.
Arbenz triggered his political downfall when he dared to challenge the neocolonial order by initiating agrarian reform. A percentage of large landowners' uncultivated land would be granted to the indigenous peoples whose ancestors had worked it. Although none of the land to be taken from UFCo was being put to productive use, the firm began using its ties in the US government (for example, its former lawyers who were now directing the CIA) to stop Arbenz's idealistic initiative by force. UFCo was threatened by the idea of peasants being able to work their own land instead of slaving in banana fields. The US government was appalled that the president of a banana republic would question US hegemony in order to act in the interests of his people's democracy. The firm and its northern government united them to take back Guatemala from the Guatemalans.
The CIA began to overthrow Arbenz's government, so sure of its expertise in producing coups d'état that the operation was codenamed "PBSUCCESS." US planes were flown by US pilots to strafe Guatemala's presidential palace with machine guns, PR magnates hired by UFCo flooded US newspapers about the "communist threat" in Guatemala, and the US military equipped a small army of Guatemalan mercenaries to invade from Honduras. A terrified populace listened to loudspeakers atop the US embassy blasting sounds of bomb explosions through the streets. In 1954, The Ten Years of Spring fell to winter and an icy legacy of military dictatorships rose in its place.
Shortly afterwards, the Guatemalan military began to conduct a genocide against the indigenous majority. To ensure that the Mayans could never again attempt to establish a state that represented the people, the military hovered in helicopters over rural communities and sprayed napalm onto thatched roofs. Mothers clutched babies and fled through muddy paths for the mountains. Families withered from starvation as they fed children leaves and sneaked country roads to drink from potholes. Some I've talked to tell stories of surviving for years and years in dry jungle. Each bullet that flew from camouflaged barrels contributed to putting Guatemala back in the hands of the ladino elite so that they could import US dollars and export the Mayan's ancestral resources.
Guatemala was again an "ideal investment climate" for the US. As in the case of UFCo, the atrocities committed by Guatemala's ruling class were enabled by a US government invested in cracking open Guatemala's economy to free the northward flow of resources. The Guatemalan military, which had never before engaged in such an ambitious act of repression, turned to its northern neighbor for training. US military officers in Georgia and Kansas taught the Guatemalan high command how to gather intelligence on a civilian populace, torture the captured, and conduct unconventional warfare. One US State Department official justified his government's actions in a secret memo: "murder, torture, and mutilation are alright if our side is doing it." His side certainly was doing it: the war continued and US-made triggers were pulled by US-trained fingers to chase the rural poor from their ancestral territory rich in natural resources. The profit came quickly: during the most violent years of the war, the Guatemalan army bought dollars at four times the market price in order to raise the value of Guatemalan currency. This plummeted the price of coffee, silver, and bananas, but the ladino elite's bank accounts grew enormously in purchasing power and the US paid even less for Guatemalan goods. Despite the immediate profit from the US military investments, the greatest prize of all had yet to be won. Guatemala's economy still had not been completely transformed in the image of US policy-makers' radical free-market vision.
The US government's enthusiasm for the genocide's progress grew as the conflict became bloodier. Another State Department memo circulated in 1981: "President Lucas made it clear that his government will continue as before— that the repression will continue. He reiterated his belief that the repression is working. Historically, of course, we cannot argue that repression always 'fails'... [we] must now decide whether [or not] we nevertheless go ahead with security assistance." The decision was promptly made and the US sold over three million dollars of military equipment to Guatemala. A year later the country's most brutal dictator in history, General Efraín Ríos Montt, took power and began to use the new equipment to increase production of Mayan slaughter. He was a born-again Evangelical Christian to whom Regan took an immediate liking. Numerous international human rights organizations began to denounce Ríos Montt's crimes against humanity. Regan responded by limply waving a dismissive hand at what he called a simple "bum rap" despite having received a CIA memo reporting that Guatemalan soldiers were infiltrating unarmed communities and "forced to fire at anything that moved." Ríos Montt's reward from the US for a job well done was over six million US dollars in military goods the following month.
Eventually, the flames roiled away into the sky and fields of ash smoked to a calm, but the survivors still bear the wounds of memory and the burden of silence. Two-hundred thousand Guatemalans were murdered, a million more displaced.
Today, it is clear that the lethal investment of the US was a very profitable one. As the Peace Accords were signed in 1996, neoliberal transformation begun. A law was passed that permits mined resources to be exported from Guatemala while paying only one percent of their value to the Guatemalan government. US firms rumble soundings for gold and petroleum deposits. Any Mayan communities living above the coveted resources are obstacles easily moved elsewhere since the genocide uprooted them and left them without legal title to their newly settled land. One mayor of a community to be displaced by the Xalalà Dam told me, "it helps them that we don't have land titles because we can just be moved to some other place." Mountains are whittled away to satisfy demands of US consumers. Left behind for indigenous communities are chemical ponds and teal lakes of arsenic. Since the government receives little from what is shipped north, it has been mandated by US financial accessories such as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund that it cut costs by privatizing basic education, electric and telecommunications infrastructure, water resources, hospitals, and any other social rights seen as superfluous. This privatization makes possible the purchase of the two rivers of the Ixcàn. Over thirty-five percent of all Guatemala's international trade is with the US. Primary goods are shipped to the US to pay for machinery, technology, and intellectual usage rights whose prices sail forever skyward. This unequal exchange, unhindered by regulations that would be against the free-market ideology of US foreign policy, is made possible by a history of Mayan bloodshed.
The Xalalà dam is one of the many fruits that been cultivated by US foreign policy, a thousand times more delicious than any banana ever shipped north by UFCo. The harvest will leave the country via high voltage lines instead of steel freighters. The direction of shipment is the same as it has always been. Like all of the most coveted resources of Guatemala, it is reserved for the enjoyment of foreign consumers.
The profit is also destined northward. Whether a US firm purchases the project or it is financed by a US dollar loan, it is almost certain that more capital will leave Guatemala than is invested. Cardamom, which serves as the only major source of currency for families that we visit around the Xalalá construction site, cannot pay for privatized medical care or agricultural equipment. According to the logic of free-markets and small government, they simply have to go without. Toddlers are raised on dirt floors and tortillas. One community leader describes to us the racism behind such an arrangement: "The government says that the indigenous people are accustomed to living on dirt floors, so they don't need better schools. They are accustomed to eating corn, so they don't need better food." The free markets will never bring them luxuries such as high schools and well-equipped doctors because they have almost nothing to exchange. Much of the income from cardamom goes to buying the legal title to their land from the Guatemalan government. The hope is that this will make it more difficult for the hydroelectric project to flood their fields of corn and cardamom without compensation. It is beyond realistic negotiation for them to ask that their communities receive a flow electricity to their houses from the Xalalá dam, let alone a stake in the multi-million dollar profit.
They are not letting the dam be constructed without a fight. Just over a year ago, nearly twenty thousand people from potentially affected communities joined together to vote on the construction of hydroelectric dams in the region. 90% of those present stood together to say NO to all proposed projects. A subsequent auction held by the Guatemalan government had nine US and Canadian firms as potential buyers of the Xalalà Dam Project, but ended with no offer. The foreign corporations cited a lack of support from civil society. The current plan is for the Guatemalan government to carry out the project with hundreds of millions of US dollars from the International Monetary Fund and World Bank. Not unrelated is the plan to deploy 600-1000 new Guatmalan troops in the region to establish "social stability" from the blackened barrels of assault rifles. The drastic measure indicates the power of the resistance to challenge the destruction of their communities.
One of the community leaders, his wife, and I sat on the porch of his rural home and discussed the new military brigade. "We don't need a military base there," he said, slowly shaking his head. His furrowed eyes remained fixed on something in the hazy treeline. "We're a people who have already suffered and been wounded by the war. Now it's happening all over again." We sat beneath a corrugated roof that cried thick raindrops from each of its wilted grooves. His words seemed to drift from somewhere miles away, but his wife listened intently to each one. "When there's a problem, it's an opportunity for them; it's profitable for them." As thunderous portents gurgled deep in the clouds, I wondered whether "them" referred to his government or the corporations from my country.
"We're going to continue fighting," he insisted. "Even when we die, our children will continue the struggle." Lightning crashed through the moment and made all of us jerk up from the damp wooden bench. "And that up there," began his wife while eyeing the restless clouds, "is the struggle of god. That's another fight altogether." We all laughed and began to snack on crumbly saltines that I had bought from the local store."
Monday, July 20, 2009
These are the loving children you dont have to live with
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
THIs is imaginary
Weather is your voice. Lost too much to inner violence. Tentacles burst out of my heart waving around like black soot filled brooms. I guess your unaware, they says and all the lovely parts just got (STARE)(STARE). pinched nerves and ingrown hairs peek inward towards debacle towards unsolvable crippling snares. Electric electric lights, electric electric eyes filled with eyes filled with eyes. Submarine tangerine mostly green, eyes within eyes made up of quotes script sensation shy guy says hi hi to what is mostly goodbye bye. Goodbye goodbye should I goodbye tentacle says huraiiiii eyes say nobody would reply and then again no one will reply and once more no reply. Thought without time happened between lung pressures and depressions, heart pumps and dumps. all maintained by a series of webs put up from eeeerie wig accumulation all pent up like impressionable needles in a one sided symbiotic relation to vocal chords and speech pattern. Parallel lines will intersect in this metaphor or rather that metaphor.
Everyday is ok. Every day is ok. Everyday is ok. Impressed? Slipped a golden eel past your clitoris and this is impressive. Passed my DNA as lovable. Pass pass pass I pass. position in relation to relations of position. The important bits were (IN)(TO) and (OF).
the next day. })* T^Y$
W$thhhh-
Y*(Yhg
the next day is without you.aj
gspppppb-hn
agokj4je08
and it becomes more contrived and meaningless
fah[97j]\8\abt4-9
and the next day˙ª≈“Ó
ncn
8
is for yourself.}TU
iG$$B
(JG
and the next day
you cuddle up into yourself. The black tentacles rip of your face. You cuddle up into yourself. and the golden eyes bath in this new cavity. You cuddle up to yourself and wake up a monster. and not a very nice one. blood boiling fearlessness, god hating love black bathed semi conscience and beardless.
was their a point.
you made me feel like I had a purpose... most of the time... most of the time. oh oh oh most of all I love you. Oh I love you most of all.
Tree's with clocks for eyes, what great new friends
the sun now comes in three brand new colors, so new to the human mind.
No need to worry about science or religion, this is truly a purposeless world.
flocks of typewriters do scour the land... and they do bathe in our blood...
the streets are filled with cardboard monsters made of children's thoughts...
everyone emits a painful scream but you will understand when you see our faces
there is no hue, there is no texture, there are fields of sand sculptures all shaped like babies. In the monsoon season we are tortured... and our fluids fill the lakes and streams and valleys and wash away the sculptures of our contempt. But we grow stronger in pain... and weaker in gluttony as we take back our fluid.
No need to worry this is truly a purposeless world.
The world is bright with sun and geese come out of our laughs and glint against the sky as their skin turns to gold their purity reacting oh so subtly to pure oxygen. This is a smile you can't get rid of. These are the loving children you don't have to live with. These are the temples and unions your ancestors bathed in to give their cares to carelessness to give their worry to the worried give their anxiety and insecurity to those fuckers back on earth.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Augustus
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
the sun and his nucleus
"i wanted to tell you that when i was younger, i saw something in the sky. i gazed up and saw bright light envelop my entire surrounding. before i could focus on the object, i lost all sight. when i was finally able to open my eyes everything had changed. i cannot recall things for what they were, only for what they are. sometimes in the middle of the night i wake as this child and realize im viewing the end result over and over"
Thursday, January 01, 2009
COLLECTIVE THOUGHT: 005
"The topic is skydiving.
I think subconsciously all my life something that I thought was interesting, but something that I would never have the opportunity to do...just a daydream in the sky.
I realize now that I am the creator of my reality and that there is nothing stopping me from doing it except for me.
Seem like it would be really interesting and exciting huh? Well it also appears to be pretty damn scary and life threatening as well.
Ive talked with many people who have done it, so I know it's possible to do a jump and survive, but I've also heard stories of people other than surviving. Yikes! Just doesn't seem worth it really. Even though many enjoy it.
I've also considered that this fear coming up could just be a metaphor for the fact that I would love to be much more fearless when it comes to interacting with life.
I've also realised that when one has spent almost 30 years of her life extremely nervous and frightened that they might just want to go out and do the most daring thing possible to make up for all the time being imprisoned in fear.
Isn't life all about creating balance, instead of compulsively swinging from one extreme to another."
Sunday, December 07, 2008
In the right direction
Monday, November 10, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
COLLECTIVE THOUGHT 004:
But consider this: the quality of life is what you make of it. We are all capable of great things, and some people reach that status. Some are happy, some are suffering. Others go to prison. And we all share the one fantastic trait of humans: boredom. That's why we go to movies or read or smoke marijuana. Life is not glamorous, any way you look at it. Once you realize this, everything makes more sense and is absolutely harmonious."
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
two tvs talking
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Venus
I could be from Mars
We would be together
Lovers forever
Care for each other
You could live in the sea
And I could be a bird
We would be together
Lovers forever
Care for each other
If you wear an illusion
I will make it real
We would be together
Lovers forever
Care for each other
If you walk in the sun
I will be your shadow
We would be together
Lovers forever
Care for each other
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Friday, April 04, 2008
Letting someone win
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Beware the Soothsayer!
"I urge that readers do not escape by ‘turning me off’. Our children and grandchildren will not be able to ‘turn off’ the massive impacts of the changes that are converging around us now. The denial of today, is the parent of the disaster and discomfort of tomorrow."
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Gravity's Rainbow
...
"I want to break out -- to leave this cycle of infection and death. I want to be taken in love: so taken that you and I, and death, and life, will be gathered inseparable, into the radiance of what we would become. . . ."
Monday, March 17, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
$$$
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Dead Flag Blues
And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
And a dark wind blows
The government is corrupt
And we're on so many drugs
With the radio on and the curtains drawn
We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
And the machine is bleeding to death
The sun has fallen down
And the billboards are all leering
And the flags are all dead at the top of their poles
It went like this
The buildings tumbled in on themselves
Mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair
The skyline was beautiful on fire
All twisted metal stretching upwards
Everything washed in a thin orange haze
I said, "Kiss me, you're beautiful..
These are truly the last days"
You grabbed my hand and we fell into it
Like a daydream or a fever
We woke up one morning and fell a little further down
For sure it's the valley of death
I open up my wallet
And it's full of blood
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
V
Sunday, January 06, 2008
COLLECTIVE THOUGHT 003:
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
How to Build a Universe That Doesn't Fall Apart Two Days Later
http://deoxy.org/pkd_how2build.htm
Friday, December 01, 2006
COLLECTIVE THOUGHT 002:
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
GENERICS: SEEK THE MOON
the worlds above us.
Through our ocular,
dots of light.
How many years,
will the answer hide?
COLLECTIVE THOUGHT 001:
but lost everything
ambiguity from accomplishment
doubt from truth
can only see so far up ahead
everything behind
what i say now is only a message
distorted by image
confronted by time
it catches up eventually
bearing different words
keeping the same meaning
you never change you always change
i can only hope that in the approaching
others will have helped me
and i will have helped others
falling victim to possesions and finances
obtained?
from birth?
at some point experience becomes intelligence
but to balloon what has happened
is to disembody every piece of logic
all reasoning
mistakes to corrections
hate to love
every piece that has occured
feeling, trying to captivate everything that
has happened
before andafter
in the places that you might go
is this a path
to a nonlinear world
will i have arrived at the same
destination if my day
would have been different
yesterday different
yes
yes yesyesyesyesyesyes
yes yesyesyesyesyesyesyes
yesyesyesyesyes yesyesyesyes
yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes
but i will have remained
do you meet these people again
in another life
the same image
with a completely different voice
how can i bear being something that i ----
and and
i havent become yet
why not choice?
wherever i do go
whatever happens
maybe maybe maybe
ill keep something in mind
maybe ill keep this in mind
ill try
i really will
but whats stopping you or me from
waking up
with objectives that succeed what
has
been
said
what has been said?
i cant remember
ill reflect another
time
and let the wings of ignorance fly me
to where i think i should be
or know that
thats just what i altercate
but how will i know whats happening
if its happening
right
when
i
dont
know
you cant speak on behalf of anybody
except yourself
and even then, the progression of time
has created an arbitrary voice
to something that once said something different
did you change...
for the better
do we
change for the better
do we
advance
and
expand
for the better
what is the better?
and how did you come to that conclusion?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
PLEASE STAND BY
IVE LIVED IT ONE THOUSAND TIMES YET I CANT REMEMBER
HOW IT BEGAN. OR HOW IT WILL END.
Friday, September 29, 2006
STAND BY:
THERE WAS A TIME WHEN EVERYTHING WAS
SO CLEAR WITH PICTURE. AND EVERYTHING
HAS CHANGED SINCE THEN.
WE CANT GO BACK NOW. WE ALREADY KNOW
THE TRUTH. REWIND AND PRESS PLAY
[LIKE NOTHING HAS HAPPENED BEFORE]