Feed the Machine

Om Namoh ganapatiye 

The future: 

There is no room for error. The machine works fast enough to ravage everything which comes its way. The human brain is the control room for today as well as tomorrows surprise.
God is dead and the belief that anything awaits us in the sky past our lifetime is today's e-newspapers joke. What tomfoolery to be bound and gagged when we can go out and rape and plunder. Its our official governmental stance.
There are stockpiles of "that guy" robots waiting to be dispensed. "That guy" can be a girl as well. He can be your listening guy, your walking buddy, the guy who will sit and console you. He will be your punching bag. he could also help you with your euthanasia. Welcome to the future of "that guy"
The sky is muddy; coal and soot in high amounts within our lungs. The nuclear stockpile piling ever so readily. The machine needs more fuel. I say the machine needs way more fuel.
In the hospitals the babies are being "born" from a source undefined. They are clocked and tested. Their arms twisted so the new bar code can be printed without error. Courtesy xerox.
On the roads, mass carnage and holocaust remains the favorite theme. In a sea of sorrow; brewing bones; babies and bosoms submerged without an inkling of emotion. The machine dispenses off what it needs not. Can be done; at all costs.
No trust between men. No love between men and women. Everyone shuts their eyes at night; to escape the nightmare. Dreaming in their vacuum tubes. Where the mind connected as one with the collective of the entire planet fuels the machine, further and further.
Sycophants on their way; to the zoo to feed the animals and make love in the hay. Children stabbing needles in their veins. Sunset is pretty especially after an eon of nuclear radiation pouring through our brains.
The future becomes connected. Brain chips connect us to the "Internet" transforming our lives revolution evolution brought to the fore. The connection is useless we all know. Our breed lacks creativity to live as one. Even if it was a virtual existence.
The sordid tales of the jails which the majority claim as their home away from home. Packed and pushed in till there cannot be filled anymore. we are fed the blood of our dead. We eat the flesh of those who didn't succumb to the maggots before. This is the glorious future we build without nature to call for help.
Everyone fights and kills to get the paycheck. During these times, when there is no food to feed oneself; the paycheck is the only thing which can be eaten. The fatter the better. The corporations are excitedly feeding the machine.
The man made the machine. The machine maketh now the man. It takes the soul and transforms it into a spitting bowl. Redemption and capitalism goes hand in hand.
This brave new world takes no prisoners. Calls everyone to arms. Another war. Another victory; a chance to bleed. For your nation and your creed. Killing is the machines true nature; seems to fuel it further more.
Everyday everyone steps on another in a manic race to get to somewhere. Once there they run helter skelter to get back to somewhere else. The machine efficient in its humor makes us run here and there like rats running to their shelter. Truth be told; In this day and age even rats dont spread the plague like us human beings do...
The majority represents the machine, the machine crushes opposition. It speaks clearly. Become part of me or become history. In these violent times. What choices do we have than to become serfs once more to serve the feudal gluttony. The machine merrily chokes on what it feeds.
Sometimes I laugh and smoke at our future travails. It seems that it will become better with nothing to spare. Everything shredded and recycled for another moron born; Where and when will it all end.?
Welcome 2012. I welcome you with open arms. Come and cleanse through the agony; The heat and misery. The failure of our becoming something worth our salt.