Update W/O The Stardate
Retro is in but if that's the case then it's been out before and will be out again soon so what is out is actually retro and is in but since that;s the case then what's in now will never be current enough. We are always one step behind ourselves...
The machine clocks with their ticking and chiming hit singular pitches in unison upon striking the eleventh hour. The clowns come down from their perches in the silver lined bird cages and unicycle down the grand halls to the feast of the century. Attending are all the dead and all those to come. The clowns grab servers platters to begin distributing the main course. Red beard and Stalin are in deep conversation about the proper treatment of followers while george orwell takes notes. Amelia Erhart and Charles Hindenburg sit in stolid silence, trying to not acknowledge the others presence. And the Goodyear's are laughing it up with the Vanderbilts, exchanging exploitation tactics. The 73'rd president of the United Americas is showing his scars from the Mexican invasion and the medals from the Candian take-over. He trades war stories with Teddy Roosevelt, only Teddy cannot fathom how much the times have changed in the manner of weapons construction. And at the head of the long polished table sits the entire of the American Indians that died and were forgotten with some haste. Time winds down and the machine clocks start to make the whining of time winding down. The Czar of the moon looks nervously around, looking to discover if the King of Mars has spotted him yet. But the King of mars is more interested with timothy Frog, the only guest that has not some distinguished place in the history of the world that can be measured in wealth or worth of any sort. for timothy frog is the only one who has averted the gaze of greed and succeeded in changing for the good of humanity. The King of mars wants to know what inspired him, and little timothy frog looks up from his booster seat and simply says "Money inspires me to do what I do. Because it stands for everything that is wrong, as long as it exists, I fight." And the machine clocks strike the twelfth hour with gusto. The guests are at once escorted out by the clown servers, all that is, but timothy frog. He returns to the now empty hall and stares own the machine clocks in their glassed faces. "You may always keep time, you may always wind down our lives to hours, minutes, seconds. But you will see, when I learn to exceed your grasp, and man figures out that the wealth ascertained in their allotted time is not their direct worth, you will have lost all your power. until then, chime like you ought!" and the clocks struck in unison, playing the same depressing melody in a crushingly loud symphony of chimes and whistles and tings. And Timothy Frog sulked to his room, alone, to ponder the possibility if defeating time.
And if you thought I was screwed up before...
The machine clocks with their ticking and chiming hit singular pitches in unison upon striking the eleventh hour. The clowns come down from their perches in the silver lined bird cages and unicycle down the grand halls to the feast of the century. Attending are all the dead and all those to come. The clowns grab servers platters to begin distributing the main course. Red beard and Stalin are in deep conversation about the proper treatment of followers while george orwell takes notes. Amelia Erhart and Charles Hindenburg sit in stolid silence, trying to not acknowledge the others presence. And the Goodyear's are laughing it up with the Vanderbilts, exchanging exploitation tactics. The 73'rd president of the United Americas is showing his scars from the Mexican invasion and the medals from the Candian take-over. He trades war stories with Teddy Roosevelt, only Teddy cannot fathom how much the times have changed in the manner of weapons construction. And at the head of the long polished table sits the entire of the American Indians that died and were forgotten with some haste. Time winds down and the machine clocks start to make the whining of time winding down. The Czar of the moon looks nervously around, looking to discover if the King of Mars has spotted him yet. But the King of mars is more interested with timothy Frog, the only guest that has not some distinguished place in the history of the world that can be measured in wealth or worth of any sort. for timothy frog is the only one who has averted the gaze of greed and succeeded in changing for the good of humanity. The King of mars wants to know what inspired him, and little timothy frog looks up from his booster seat and simply says "Money inspires me to do what I do. Because it stands for everything that is wrong, as long as it exists, I fight." And the machine clocks strike the twelfth hour with gusto. The guests are at once escorted out by the clown servers, all that is, but timothy frog. He returns to the now empty hall and stares own the machine clocks in their glassed faces. "You may always keep time, you may always wind down our lives to hours, minutes, seconds. But you will see, when I learn to exceed your grasp, and man figures out that the wealth ascertained in their allotted time is not their direct worth, you will have lost all your power. until then, chime like you ought!" and the clocks struck in unison, playing the same depressing melody in a crushingly loud symphony of chimes and whistles and tings. And Timothy Frog sulked to his room, alone, to ponder the possibility if defeating time.
And if you thought I was screwed up before...