Isthmus of Ignatz

Brick by Brick

Friday, June 30, 2006


When does it all become flying feathers, spinning teeth, tumbling fur and skeins of skin in our cutesy deal with des animaux we rub? When they turn our size, or larger, and begin to rapidly and vilely organize themselves better than us - in a communication undecipherably complex and additionally entire outofrange of known human aural frequency; developing in a way that defies intervention. we become nought to them and the memory of kindhearts among humans has long since been canned. This is the time we arrive at the question that posits the clear choice - us or them; eliminating one by one. Survival is the only ideal. Unless its the Kingdom of something else.
(Pic courtesy: Marion Peck)

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