Absolutely nothing worth reading...Mo money to make... Of no consequence whatsoever...Pure nincompoop and complete stark raving sadness from Pluto's Paradise.

Is it ever quiet.com

Wow...is it EVER quiet in Pluto's Paradise, Québec...!...?
I'm not quite sure what's going on out there...
Are the pentagoons sneaking up on me...?

Has the FBI gone on to bigger and better things...?
Is the CIA learning how to become intelligent for cea-usa...?
Are the Choice-Manhattan Background Banksters thinking of giving me a loan to promote the Revolution in Higher Consciousness in Québec?

Is Bernard Landry thinking of hiring me to teach activists how to get a bit of attention and less Bablum from Great Great Crapitalistic Foreign Investment Conglomerats abroad...? A broad...?

A broader view of things might suggest THEY are all satisfied that I'm a nobody, a nothing...? A virtual nincompoop full of toxic shit...? With nothing to sell.

No body, no thing,
No money, no influence,
No thanks, no tanks,
No banks, no missiles,
No credit, no stockpiles,
No propaganda machines at my disposal, nothing.

Absolute ZERO.

-273 degrees Kelvin.

Now that's real black matter.

Not a peep...

Not even a stark raving rant from the Glorious Mainstreams of the Great Great Glorious Empire...?

Is there any body out there...?
Or is it just a mind that can't make itself up...?
Is there anybody IN HERE...?

Or is it just a burning desire to jump back in with the Blac Bloc of my understanding...

And out of the Black Hole Flock of social apathists...

Who knows if not those who want to know...?

Too many generations lost in virtual inanity, TV unreality.
Too many words wasted in meaningless sermons, soulless smiles, smileless souls...

Time to tune out the radio. Time to tune out the TV.
Unable to pierce the wall of shame due to the high noise to signal ratio.

Welcome to Really Independent Stark Media: Me, My Self and I Alone.

Oh...

DID I WAKE anybody up...?

...I'm sorry...

Oh well...I'm going now.
I won't take much of your precious neurons.

I'm on the Wrong track...
Or the Wrong train of thought...
Or perhaps the Wrong network...
Or the Wrong planet...

Time to go back...

To the Great Blac North,

Pluto's Paradise

Isidor