Sweet Summer Treat

Yes, I'm much into recycling this month, so what? Recycling is eco-friendly and it's not because I can't afford to go on holidays that I don't have the right to slow down. That said, it may not seem like much but bringing back improved old recipes and translating them into another langage still requires a minimum input of time and effort. So all you grousers, never-satisfied and spiteful mouths, please don't change a thing. After all, you have the right to exist too, but it doesn't mean we won't live on our own terms and share what we like. Worry not, we do love you because you're such a laugh and constant reminders of how we could end up like lest we decided to give up on our dreams. So thank you for continously boosting our motivation and have a good ranting! Such a lenghty preamble to introduce my new improved and revisited version, still 100% vegan and sugar/gluten free of the hyperproteinated creams I ate for breakfast (see Related articles). This is an original recipe I invented and which I wanted smoother and with a subtil flavour of hazelnut and vanilla which reminds a little bit of crèmes brûlées. For those who don't like coconut in general, have a try because it really doesn't taste like coconut.

Ingredients

Makes 12 ramekins :

- 1 litre hazelnut (or almond) milk
- 400 ml coconut milk
- 1 vanilla pod
- 4 tbsp lupin flour
- 3 tbsp ground flaxseed
- 4 tbsp ground almonds

Instructions

 Split the vanilla pod and infuse with milks brought to boiling point.

Remove vanilla pod and add powders and flour, stirring well to avoid the formation of lumps.

Stir regularly and cook over a low heat until the mixture thickens which should take about 10 minutes but it depends how thick you want it to be (please note it will continue thickening when cooling).

Pour into ramekins and let it cool before refrigerating.

Before serving, you may spray some cinnamon (or cocoa) powder and add a couple of almonds on top to decorate.

NOTE: You may substitute other vegetal milks for hazelnut milk but the mixture might not have the same thick consistency. If you use almond milk instead, the taste might be slighly bitter since this recipe doesn't contain any added sugar. If so, you may add a touch of honey or agave syrup.

Enjoy your treat!

© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

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Earthsick

The dark night of the soul, the bends. The ultimate groundswell that drags you down to the bottom of the bitter sea. Carried away, my heart sank in this ebb and flow of tears. Overwhelmed by the Big Blue. Am really sinking this low? And those weird fishes — their slashed souls and lifeless eyes staring at me, blankly. Their greedy sunken — bleak, dead, stillborn eyes. Yes, I want to live, breathe, but as for being part of the human race, well I'm not so sure anymore. I can't take this right now. Got some sort of mega faith crisis. And it won't just go away when I wake up sucking a lemon. No, no, no... I'm afraid it will take much more than this.

Stop! I wanna go home,
Take off this uniform
And leave the show.
And I'm waiting in this cell
Because I have to know
Have I been guilty all this time?

"Stop", Pink Floyd (1979)

I'm an alien soul longing for somewhere else. Somewhere far away from this creeping madness, from this unreasonable perversion, this growing ingratitude, ignorant arrogance, loud egos, baffling denial, uncontrollable fear and excruciating alienation. Going round and round little patapons, over and over in circles. Could you please stop drawing me sheep? Forget it. It was a mistake — an awful mistake.

Come let the truth be shared
No-one ever dared
To break these endless lies
Secretly she cries.

"Sunburn", Muse (1999)

Can't. The veil of oblivion is flawed. False memories are fading away as real ones are emerging. If they float, they burn. If you talk, you die. If you keep quiet, you give up the ghost. Shoot the messenger! Burn the witch! Their game, their rules. Move or get removed, let's play leapfrog instead. One, two, three, Alice fell into a black hole. Black is black, you can't go back.

A lull. A dying angel. A shooting star. Make a wish. I believe, yes I do. I want to. Yes I can. You, me, them. Change our reality.

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Pinhole Vision

Hold on, don't you go assuming I'm into psychedelic trips. Nope. I'd just like to share an awesome discovery I made while surfing: pinhole glasses. Mine cost me less than two euros (some serious grounds for upheavals on planet Oculus 2000, assuredly, and what with getting called a charlatan except I have nothing to sell and the object of disinformation offence is even cheaper than a lottery ticket).

I'm punching holes, tiny little holes
Tiny little holes, over and over again
Second class holes
First class holes

"Le Poinçonneur des Lilas", Serge Gainsbourg (1958)

The concept is simple: whenever a person with visual impairment such as myopia, hypermetropia, presbyopia or astigmatism looks through a hole, their vision becomes clearer — the beam of light reaching the eye is narrowing, thus widening the focus range and reducing the blurred area on the retina. You can experiment at home by creating a tiny pinhole-sized tunnel with your fingers and look through it without your glasses on. Both the Eskimo and Filipino peoples, as well as the Aztecs, had invented the forerunners of our modern glasses — viewing slots made of mussels or animal bones to get a clearer view of their surroundings.

It's the camera obscura principle and the aperture used for that is called a “pinhole”. It allows individuals with visual impairment to have a vision 60% clearer when looking through it than without any corrective device.

I, for one, use pinhole glasses against presbyopia (far-sightedness). Since my vision varies according to my health condition, stress, eye strain, lightening conditions, and because I'm not the regular user I should be (doing my best), I wouldn't say my close vision is perfect (far from it), yet it's been about five years now and I still can read without corrective lenses. Whenever I'm struggling with small print (i.e. such as recommended dosage on homeopathic medicines), I put my pinhole glasses on and everything's fine.

You need to know that, unlike corrective lenses which sort of serve as crutches eyes that lost their ability to focus clearly, looking through pinholes stimulates and strengthens oculomotor nerves and muscles. I must say I've also practiced (but not on a regular basis) eye yoga recommended by Ayurveda medicine and basic foundation of the famous Bates Method.

Not the Bates as in Norman, the psychopathic murderer from the Psycho movie, but rather Bates as in William — Dr. William Bates, an American ophtalmologist of the past century who designed a method to  train eyes based on psychology, which was later popularised by Aldous Huxley. Without entering the specifics here, if you've never heard of it, it's for the same reason as many other similar things: it would hurt a whole juicy business. So if you visit Wikipedos, the Matrix cyclopedia, you may expectedly read that it has no real scientific basis, and you'll also find articles galore by medics and healthcare professionals condemning the desinformation — nothing new under the Propaganda sun. If you're still skeptical, I would like to point out though that the Bates Method was recommended to me by an orthoptist in addition to the specific custom exercises to train my eyes.

Besides, I'm not selling anything. Neither do I ask you to get rid of your glasses. Still I'm advising you to have a serious try and see (no pun intended) what happens. When you constantly wear corrective lenses (especially if you're far-sighted), you weaken your muscles and in time, you'll always need stronger ones (bonanza).

I won't expose the Bates Method here either (there are many detailed websites and books available), but paired with the regular use (15-30 minutes a day) of pinhole glasses  — while watching TV, working on your computer, reading a good book, etc. (however BEWARE not to use them will driving or walking in the street as they restrict your vision scope), overall you should acquire a better eyesight with or without corrective lenses.

Another benefit of pinhole glasses is that you can also use them as sunglasses to your great advantage since they reduce the amount of sunlight while retaining its healing quality (full solar spectrum). Perfect to watch tonight's solar eclipse.

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We Ain't Out of the Woods Yet

This is what I call a great summer! We could almost take out the down jackets and sit by the fire, sipping grogs. Meanwhile, buzzing in the background like some TV accidentally (or deliberately?) left on, the same bugging old refrain of those who haven't figured out yet how to get their head out of the hole (yep, that same hole you're all thinking of, but which I won't name), and still will come out with some preposterous ready-made explanation, arguing — with no idea nor making the effort or even willing to hear the actual source of your information at odds with their own wrong sense of rotation — that you're a real sucker, that “you can't believe anything you read on the Internet” (sic) blah blah blah, forcing words in your mouth and disinformation in your head. When you can't talk about the weather as a mere courtesy to keep a mock conversation going without sparking a nuclear disaster, where does it all end?

In short, kettles haven't heard the last of black pots, making fun of them like Raving Rabbids high on chemtrails who couldn't find the way out of their own burrow. Quite normal, you might say, since mirror reflections are all inverted. All the same, the lining of their silver seriously lacks shine — blame it on pollution.

Okay, I'm a carp (carpe diem!). I'm a tomb. Gobble Google baby, gobbling the hook, the rod, and the fisher. Guess the lure was packed with magic shrooms for I got my thermostat all messed, really can't tell the freezer from the oven now. When it comes up to absolute zero, better not mix'em all up Kelvins for Farenheits or Celsiuses, huh!

Let's move on from Grumpy, Dopey, Care Bear, and all of them narcoleptic gang of garden gnomes (for degnoming, please, refer to the Weasleys' instructions in Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows). So unwilling to comply anymore with the dictates of some ever-so erratic, kinky weather, I, “Wild Rosie Joan, villain-buster of the fachosphere” (dixit some hillarious self-confessed Zionist and white knight of Marine, daughter of Jean-Marie, on Twitter), finally decided to go against the drizzle and the grey and take a walk in the wild.

Let's take a walk in the woods
While the wolf is away.
If the wolf was there,
He'd eat us,
But since he's not there,
He won't eat us.

French nursery rhyme

Well, haven't met the wolf — probably too busy tending to his heartburn for eating too many GMO of those red riding hoods — but instead came across, perhaps not in that order: hardly anybody, cats, dogs, coypus, aliens (without idiophones), nettles, brambles galore, acorns, slackers, wild berries (strawberries, blackberries, red, blank and/or ripe), piles of plastic waste, pathways covered with yellow foliage, and... barbed-wire.

How's that “Private property, no trespassing”? Visual reminder of the opening scene of Hunger Games for those who have seen this movie. Creepy outlook...

I keep the wolf from the door,
But he calls me up,
Calls me on the phone,
Tells me all the ways
That he's gonna mess me up,
Steal all my children
If I don't pay the ransom.

"A Wolf At The Door", Radiohead (2003)

So let's get out of the woods before darkness comes and force the wolf out into the open!

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Laundry-Greening

Laundry-greening has nothing to do with greenwashing, which is how many unscrupulous brands join the growing trend towards greener products, adopting a falsely ethical and environment-friendly stance while actually investing more in advertising and marketing rather than implementing genuine environmental actions.

The toxins contained in commercial laundry detergents are not only detrimental to the planet, they also seep through skin and lungs and end up in our blood flow.

In addition, whether organic or not, they cost a fortune.

So many good reasons to stop buying and make your own at home.

The liquid detergent recipe below is not just dead simple, it's also very quick to make and ridiculously cheap (less than 50 cents for a large bottle). And your wash will be as clean as with commercial brands whether you use a washing machine or not.

Ingredients

• 30 g household soap flakes (or grated soap)
• 20 g soda ash
• 740 ml water

QSF 800 ml

Instructions

Dissolve soap flakes into boiling water.

Once cooled, add soda ash and mix to homogeneous blend.

Transfer to a recycled detergent container and leave to stand for a couple hours before use.

NOTE: By cooling, the mixture will get thicker. To make it easier to use, insert some large glass marbles (cleansed with alcohol) inside the bottle and shake well. You may also add so water in your dosing cap to thin it.

For machine wash, use 1 glass (approximately 120 ml). I recommend putting it directly inside the machine drum using a plastic ball.

Since it is fragrant-free, you may add some essential oils but it will dramatically increase the cost for little benefit. Alternatively you may store dry lavender sachets in your cupboards to perfume your laundry and save your precious oils.

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Now Make It Turn

The spinning wheel is turning. Not always in the right direction, but it's turning. Man, it's spinning so fast it makes me dizzy! And it does make me sick too at times. Nope,  I'm not even talking about the merry-go-round but the wheel of karma and, incidentally, the wheel of the zodiac. Oh well, since we're on a holiday break (at least, let's pretend we are), I won't torture you with such philosophical concerns which actually they aren't. Karma and vibes, that's very real. In truth, it's the only real stuff in this physical matrix of delusion.

Just a couple of months ago, I posted an energy update, mentioning the turmoil I was going through, both physically and emotionally, same as many of you are experiencing right now. In particular, I was telling you how my insights had increased in strength and accuracy and always turned out to be true. They still do and in spite of the powerful storm persisting at every level, it helps me to stay grounded. I have the feeling that gradually, very subtly but at the cost of great suffering, I'm learning (at long last!) to let go of my thinking mind and of the opinion of other people, to love myself and accept being your official nutcase, the crank, the “irresponsible” one. For according to the Matrix, being irresponsible is when you break the norm of acceptance, ie. you don't accept anything that tears you apart without questioning, and you don't give up to what's unacceptable just because ”that's life”, “that's the way things are”,  “it's the way it's always been”, and “look, that's how people like you always end up, so grow up, do what everyone else does and continue the long tradition of nonsense where you feel like hell and still ought to feel even worse for daring feeling bad”. Spot the error — the lethal horror. It is no coincidence the Cancer sign is ruled by the Moon, representing our emotions and whatever feeds us.

And the fool on the hill
Sees the sun going down
And the eyes in his head
See the world going round.

"The Fool On The Hill", The Beatles (1967)

In a word, now I don't give a damn. At least I'm trying not to. I'm literally striving not to. I cope by listening to no-one but the little voice within, barely discernable through all the constant, unwanted soundtrack of all the other voices, wailing their uncertainties and criticism in my head while they're not even mine in the first place. I no longer engage in conversation with these unduly voices that only seek to dishearten me, literally or otherwise as rightly pointed out by Laura Marie in a recent energy update podcast (in French). The term is quite relevant since it's exactly what's at stake — sparing no effort to drive us out of the heart energy (which keeps us away from the negative ego where the manipulation of humanity can operate) and of our connection to the universe lest we should go viral.

So I've opted for the f-off attitude and I give them the virtual finger. They can stick it to wherever they like as long as they use theirs. Er... I know it's not so much my heart speaking, but hey, we ain't gone with the fairies yet! Anger can be good sometimes. To get moving again. As long as you do not dwell in it and seize this peak power to step up from despair to a less negative level of the vibrational scale, and further reach higher levels to escape the vicious circle — the crushing wheel of the anti-life energies those who breed us like chicken actually feed on. The vibrational yo-yo (or roller-coaster) effect.

The wheel is turning, of course and will inevitably pull us down whatever direction it turns. A bit like politics. And planetary cycles in astrology. There is permanence in change. That's what we call cycles. But in our current system, the gears of our natural cycles have been so deliberately stuck (and warped), it's like riding with a bent wheel. No doubt a risky business.

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round.
I just had to let it go...

"Watching The Wheels", John Lennon (1980)

So let's stop behaving like hamsters. We're not guinea pigs, we're divine beings, unaware of who they are, and whose memories have been suppressed to enslave them and supply energy to those who refuse to respect the laws of karma — the law of cycles.

Let's not allow them anymore to recycle our souls via their tunnel of fake light. Wake up everybody!

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Muffin's Return

Contrary to what mainstream media say, veganism is not the new trendy hype nor nutritional nonsense, but a way ahead for humanity. Besides spiritual consequences, “lesser consumption of animal products is necessary to save the world from the worst impacts of climate change” a UN reports says. (source)

In fact, in addition to the unnecessary animal suffering and health issues related to breeding and slaughtering are wastage and pollution of water resources, ocean degradation, deforestation, fossil fuel dependency, increased carbon dioxide emanations and greenhouse effect plus human starvation. However, it is not for me to convince you to make the switch but your responsibility as incarnated souls to make this choice or not. I just want to share my beliefs and the undisputed positive impact the new lifestyle has had on my physical and spiritual well-being.

A lengthy preamble to introduce a fully-vegan (using flaxseed instead of eggs) enhanced version of my homemade gluten and sugar-free recipe of cinnamon muffins posted last year. Definitely softer and tastier, it will keep even better and longer.

Ingredients

Makes 9 muffins:

- 50 g coconut flour
- 50 g rice flour
- 50 g quinoa flour
- 50 g tigernut flour
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 tbsp apple vinegar
- 3 tbsp ground flaxseed
- 2 tbsp ground almonds
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp ground ginger
- 6 tbsp olive oil (or melted coconut oil)
- 300 ml rice milk (or any vegetable milk)

Directions

In a large bowl, mix flours with spices and ground linseed, preferably using a whisk. Dig a hole in the middle and add baking soda plus vinegar.

Mix again then add milk and oil. Stir well until you get a thick, slightly elastic dough.

Transfer into a 9 cup muffin pan and press well to pack slightly. Bake for 35 minutes at 210°C.

NOTE: You may substitute ginger and cinnamon with 1 tsp of raw unsugared cocoa powder, add raisins, shredded nuts and flavour with rum or essential oils (25 drop orange oil) as you wish.

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The Mirror Visitor

It feels so good to laze around and enjoy the sun with a good book for company! It's been ages since I wanted to share my mega literary “crush” with you. Three years to be precise. But since I didn't know how I could do that without risking any spoiler, I guess I was waiting for the right time and most especially for the next instalments to come out, just to make sure I wasn't going to be disappointed. And I'm not. I'm over-thrilled by this new series for « young adults » as never before since Harry Potter, and I would go so far as to say that it's absolutely not second to the latter. Still, comparing both would not only be simplistic but totally irrelevant since, unlike in J.K. Rowling's work, the hybrid world Christelle Dabos created is pure fantasy (with an added touch of steampunk¹) and doesn't expand into our own reality.

So The Mirror Visitor is a four-book French series (the third one having just hit the shelves about two months ago), written by a young lady based in Belgium and winner of the Gallimard Jeunesse-RTL-Télérama First Novel Competition in 2012. In the first instalment, we're introduced to a world shattered by a disaster and ripped apart into arks of land suspended in mid-air. Each ark is ruled by an immortal being  with a failing memory (there is a good reason to that as we'll find out later on) called Family Spirit who actually is the ancestor of its inhabitants, all gifted with supernatural powers.

A Winter's Promise

So Ophelia lives on Anima, an ark where objets have a life of their own. A clumsy, poorly-dressed loner who wears glasses like Harry, but any comparison ends here. Ophelia is a young adult who can read things — which means that, by merely touching objets she's able to recall their past and the thoughts of each person who came into their possession. But she's also got a secret unusual talent: the ability to pass through mirrors as if they were some kind of Portkeys². She's been enjoying a quiet life in a large, lively family (a bit like Tolkien's Hobbits) until, for political reasons, the Deans decided to force her into a marriage of convenience to an influential man from the Pole, which she cannot decline (again) without risking to be banned both by her family and peers and from her native ark.

So, along with her aunt Roseline who chaperons her, she leaves for the Citaceleste to meet her fiancé who is as cold and cheerless as an iceberg and actually doesn't seem anymore pleased to have her around than she is. There, she encounters a much different world and a decadent society where rival clans shamelessly compete in depravity, violence, murder and corruption. Not to mention the boudoir conspiracies where the favourites are battling to gain the attention of the great Farouk — all somewhat reminiscent of the court of Louis XIV and Alexandre Dumas's books.

The Missing of Clairdelune

Ophelia is promoted to vice-storyteller of the great Farouk and in turn becomes the target of hatred and brewing conspiracies running under the cover of the golden ceiling of the Citaceleste. She unwittingly gets involved in a trail of events beyond understanding where she plays a keyrole. I'm aware that this is a lame attempt to summarise (without spoiling) a storyline much more complex including many twists and turns without any downtime in between.

The Memory of Babel

More than two and a half years have passed since the latest developments. Ophelia uses a fake identity to move to Babel, a cosmopolitan ark on the leading edge, which the author further describes as “a crossover between India, Reunion Island,  [...] and the Hanging Gardens of Ancient Babylon.” This new instalment leads us directly from a Dumasian/Pullmanian atmosphere to a full Orwellian dystopia quite reminiscent of Farenheit 451. Ophelia finds herself joining a prestigious college seemingly ruled by the law of bullying, elitism, betrayal and backstabbing. With an unpredictable storyline still  as compelling and tightly plotted as ever and never running out of momentum Christelle Dabos surprises us by treading off the beaten tracks of fantasy, providing a clever creative mix of genres while challenging all its codes and clichés. Her neologisms are even a match for those of her British predecessor J.K. Rowling. Her Trambirds and Upsidedown Lounges, for instance, are pure delight for our imagination and well worth all the Hourglasses in the world.

Below is a short excerpt I thought relevant to the actual prevailing level of consciousness in our own world:

My mother would have none of this. She keeps going and claims what happened to ***, ***, and ** is nothing more than a series of accidents. She dismisses ***'s testimony as pure nonsense. Her ill-will is so strong I nearly thought that she's... well, it's terrible to say... that she's withholding information. For me, worst is that she genuinely believes in her own assertions. She's so obsessed with the idea that our city is perfect that she cannot simply conceive it to be any different.

Now, it's going to be another year at least until we can read the next and final instalment. In the meantime, the good news is that since the first two books sold more than 130,000 copies each, the series will be translated in several languages such as English, Italian and Spanish. For more information, you may visit the official website of la Passe-miroir (in French).

UPDATE: A dedicated site to The Mirror Visitor Quartet is now available in English HERE.

Endnotes

1. ^ Steampunk is a subgenre of science fiction or science fantasy that incorporates technology and aesthetic designs inspired by 19th-century industrial steam-powered machinery. Although its literary origins are sometimes associated with the cyberpunk genre, steampunk works are often set in an alternative history of the 19th century's British Victorian era or American "Wild West", in a post-apocalyptic future during which steam power has maintained mainstream usage, or in a fantasy world that similarly employs steam power. Therefore, steampunk may be described as neo-Victorian. (Source)
2. ^ In the Harry Potter series, any object can be used as a Portkey and be set to transport anybody who touches it to a designated location or to become active at a predetermined time and transport itself and anyone touching to its set destination.

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Paranoid Android

As mentioned a couple of days ago, today marks the fourth anniversary of the French edition of this blog with nearly 208,000 visitors and some 1,038 posts to date (almost double with the English edition) — and still plenty to say! A huge THANK YOU to my devoted readers. Since I couldn't repeat the birthday cake cliché (even if it's this month's theme, literally or otherwise) nor serve you the same old creeps again (stale pastries don't taste good), let's celebrate greatly and as we may with the awesome track (and accompanying video) which inspired the title of this summertime series. And for fun, I've also included an early draft of the lyrics written by Thom Yorke from the sketchbook included with the outrageously expensive collector boxset of the recent remastered reeissue of OK Computer released by Radiohead on their indie label (which, thanks goodness, I did not buy).

Paranoid Android

Please could you stop the noise, I'm trying to get some rest
From all the unborn chicken voices in my head

What's that? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)
What's that? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)

When I am king, you will be first against the wall
With your opinion which is of no consequence at all

What's that? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)
What's that? (I may be paranoid, but not an android)

Ambition makes you look pretty ugly
Kicking, squealing Gucci little piggy

You don't remember... You don't remember...
Why don't you remember my name?
Off with his head, man! Off with his head, man!
Why don't you remember my name?
I guess he does...

Rain down, rain down,
Come on rain down on me
From a great height... From a great height, height...

Rain down, rain down,
Come on, rain down on me
From a great height... From a great height...

Rain down, rain down
(that's it, sir, you're leaving, the crackle of pigskin)
Come on rain down on me
(the dust and the screaming, the yuppies networking)
From a great height
(the panic, the vomit, the panic, the vomit)

God loves his children
God loves his children, yeah

Thom Yorke, 1997

Alternative lyrics

Mealy-mouthed bitchy little boys, playground bullies,
Intent on your supremacy and your valiant battle of shitty spiteful words,
Tearing each other's hair out and spitting reconstitued bullshit that nobody wants to hear,
Living out Lester Bang's misguided rock'n'roll bullshit dream like sad rain-coated red-faced perverts,
Living life on the edge of a glass of lager and your pathetic opinions which are of no consequence,
Your opinion is of no consequence...
Your opinion is of no consequence!

Waving your blunt little swords and declaring an invasion,
Fighting amongst yourselves because there's nothing else to write about.
Your stunning insights into your precious out-of-date youth culture,
Your puerile obsession with the voice of youth in the midst of your midlife crises,
Your precious little planet of indie middle class retro shitpop,
Your opinion is of no consequence!

Your are out of touch,
Neurotic pathetic battery-farmed evil little idiots who have no guts.
Failed writer, failed musician, failed person... you know who you are.
You know this is about you telling me I just can't take a joke.
I can't take a joke!
But you see honey,
You're the joke...
You're the joke...
You're the joke...

All this would be of no consequence but now you've hurt the ones I love
So now I declare war on you.
Telling me I cannot take a joke:
Wrong, you're the joke...
I didn't mean it,
I was only joking but you can't take the joke
So now you're the joke.

© Thom Yorke, 1997

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Love No Evil

See how comfy he is
In times of trouble,
Woes to say,
Words to curse he has,
He, Evil.

Set up as a phallocracy,
Ruled by a demonocracy,
Pedantic boaster,
Taunting smug he is,
He, Evil.

Deliberately sickening,
Feasting on our ups and downs,
Incredibly heady,
On our fears he feeds,
He, Evil.

Both sneaky and sly,
Snide and deceptive,
So convinced of his inerrancy,
Believe himself invincible he does,
He, Evil.

Worshipped today
By all the disenchanted
He's been deceiving,
Ultimately deposed he'll be,
He, Evil.

Good on him,
He'll lose face,
And so bad the hurt,
Bugger off he will,
He, Evil.

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