




MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20260325_FATWAH.mp3
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Understand: the above sketchy “war plan” would take at least 6 months to prepare, and this will be while the Iranians still have rockets/missiles and other weapons in hardened facilities that will attack us WHILE we are building up. There are no slam dunk avenues of approach into Tehran, and you would have to take Tehran. All of the Iranian missiles have a range that makes all of Iran capable of firing on the Persian Gulf/Strait of Hormuz even IF Trump managed to take the other side.

YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
YOU CAN RIDE THIS AIR CAR,
around your HOME ...
around your school ...
It floats on air,
powered by a vacuum cleaner ...
It floats on air,
powered by an electric motor ...
This technology
arrives very soon,
and when it does
watch the BOOM.
A revolutionary skit,
childhood dreams pitted against
a fuse,
a phantom,
an idea that was LIT.
If it needed electric power?
Or some kind of magical SPRITE?
They'd tell you, right?
They'd include those words, amazing.
Only TURDS would lie
to those innocent cheeks
cleaving to deception
as things get bleak.
Infinite energy drive,
what a time to be alive.
IT LIFTS 200 POUNDS!
THIS FUCKER LIFTS 200 POUNDS!
Or perhaps,
like the BRITS,
clever lawyers like to split,
words and clauses,
serve their bosses,
telling you truth:
"You want to build
this thing?
You're going to need bling ...
You'll need to steal
200 BRITISH POUNDS STERLING ..."
That's HUNDREDS of DOLLARS today ...
Thousands ...
Sure BUCK,
you can have a hovercraft
it won't suck,
go and build it
you miserable fuck.
You will fly around,
all over town,
your woman will wear a gown,
the old men will frown ...
IT'S YOUR BOYS' LIFE HOVERCRAFT!
It's your key to future bliss!
This one time offer so surprising,
you don't dare miss.
For PLANS AND PHOTOS?
- send $4.95 ...
For love and HEROES,
give us your coin.
Your loins will flare,
you'll kill a bear,
your daddy WILL SWEAR
to never take the ATARI away ...
PITFALL PETE.
PITFALL PETE.
STRUGGLE SO SWEET.
IN A JUNGLE SO WET.
You can bet mother fucker,
good old Pete,
wished he had a hovercraft,
to beat bricks back home,
to beat his meat.
You can float on air.
It lifts 200 pounds.
They'll never hear a sound,
when you sneak up on
their BOY'S LIFE LIES.
The skies turn dark,
but you still have time,
for plans and photos,
send four ninety five.
FREE INVENTORS CALENDAR!
It's fun.
It's free.
With order ...
Low COST,
EASY TO BUILD,
YOU CAN'T BE KILLED,
YOU WON'T BE DESTROYED,
YOUR LIFE WILL IMPROVE,
one day you'll find
YOUR GROOVE ...
Am I right Pete?
You still swinging Pete?
You still alive?
Or do you live
with UNCLE CLIVE,
in HELL ...
Does that ring a bell?
We're going to Hell.
YOU CAN FLOAT ON AIR,
cremate your care,
your BOYS' LIFE gone.
With that wind,
abandon like fire,
those dread sins,
that die with
the liar.

I can’t sleep.
I slept a little, then I woke up.
I want to be at peace, I’m certain God can help, but I simply am too tired to sleep.
I don’t know why I’m complaining to you, my 5 FED friends, but I am.
WE WERE LIED TO, we were lied to so well that we still don’t know for certain the SCYTHE that is coming to cut us all down. But many of us have known, since 2019, a scythe of some sort is on its way. If you are upset that my estimate of 5 years of BOBLIMPTOCK was off, please curse my name while you’re running from the freaks this summer, it will help, and mutter “six seven … six seven” as you blink out of existence under the knife of the desperately confused.
WE WERE LIED TO in such a comprehensive way, that when GRINKEN TIME starts (in a few weeks or sooner) people will skip Kubler-Ross and instead stay in the crazy turning circle denial-anger-bargaining … and this will be a plague of madness. People who have no principles now will have the same, but the fear that kept them from being their worst self? – that goes away. Parents who have starving children, crying themselves to sleep at night? – they will break into your home and kill you and steal your food. GTFO of the cities.
It was probably too late 10 years ago when I admonished, preached, screamed: “OUR NUMBER ONE PROBLEM IS THE INSTITUTIONAL LYING”. This is still true, but it no longer fucking matters.
When it hits? – not everyone you know will “lose it”, but enough will. If you live in a city and haven’t put your house up for sale yet? – you need to or accept your fate in the coming wood chipper.
I’m probably saying this cuz I can’t sleep, right?
FUCK THE STATE OF ISRAEL!
Daniel John Sullivan
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Where have you been
Antarctic polar bear?
Where have you gone?
You've been gone
so very long ... yeah, yeah.
Where have you been you rascal polar bear?
The orca and the penguin
are your friends.
Orca and penguin,
are friends to the bitter end, oh boy,
Where are you hiding you fucking polar bear?
You lived outside,
never telling a single lie,
you lived quite free,
eating fruit from
the coconut tree,
your heart is pure,
you live that eternal dance,
your mind is cured,
but PANDA EXPRESS ...
When I was a kid,
they had this place,
OLD STYLE PANDA EXPRESS ...
They served REAL PANDA.
They served it REAL fast.
They knew it wouldn't last.
They were haunted by their past ...
Mongolian panda ...
General Tso's Panda ...
Sweet and sour panda ...
Panda Express ...
Panda Express ...
They ran out of pandas,
broken promises,
no longer fast.
They needed a replacement ...
Something tasty ...
That won't give their customers gas.
PANDA EXPRESS,
founded on FLAVOR,
serving up PANDA,
for your favor,
you can savor,
that nifty taste,
you smear that paste,
dipping sauce,
red faced child,
mild feelings ...
SCREAMING AT THE CEILINGS!
Plastic ZOO gives way
to Antarctic GOO ...
A slurry in a hurry.
A dish best eaten cold.
All of this NEW,
out of the blue,
they hunted the Antarctic Polar Bear
like it was WORLD WAR TWO ... too ...
There are so few
polar bear left,
some of them flew,
some of them wanted to sue,
your mind would seize,
freeze,
squeeze out strife.
Like Barney Fife,
wonder what's
"going on around here???"
But old GLEN is drinking his beer,
in fear,
of laden thoughts,
and new robots,
and meat so fun,
you gotta run,
to PANDA EXPRESS,
this year.
But the silence
of those great plains,
insane white light,
ice and pain,
for that lumbering beast,
it's gone,
it's left,
it's buried,
so few ... so few are still there.
And if they disappear,
leaving this world
alone in the dark,
will some national park,
resurrect this fine beast?
Fusing its DNA with yeast?
"A polar-beer,
my dear friend"
And what message will this send?
In the end left,
with spineless freaks,
beaks full of chum,
for some,
restless geeks.
WHEN?
When?
where ...
Where have you been,
Antarctic Polar Bear,
where have you gone,
you've been gone
so very long ...
yeah, yeah
Where have you gone you sad little polar bear?
(decipher the allegory here on your own)

