PLANETARY STATUS REPORT!

Time isn’t what we think it is …

The moment you are in NOW, the now, is not fixed. It’s not some point on the domain, where there is past, present and FUTURE. The NOW is the trailing edge of the future, it is the not yet settled past.

Chaos siege awaits the time-worms, as entropy generators expand the envelope of the NOW. Present-wise, the angel-masters keep their clocks tight and wound, as the last of the eons wane, and the feather-quarrel ends in stalemate.

All of the heathens want their blood vengeance, all the Gronkis Lords are forming up north of S’compton …

Grinken Town is on fire with RAGE and BLAME’STORMING …

All of Boblimptock trembles before the scavenger hordes of DOOG-FROMM …

(start sharpening knives and sticks)

“I AM THE PROPHET OF FIRE!”, screamed the old scarab priest. 10 GUNDRILLES of ashes were filled and then dumped in the great river south of ALABAMA. The ceremony would need to be completed before the next blood moon, so that the ravagers of midnight would be satisfied and the Devil has his due …

“S’COMPTON IS A PARADISE OF LIES!”, but no one heard the old man over the din of flamethrowers and sawed-off shotguns. The SCREEGEN-KLAN was forming up off of TEXAS STREET, and the ROWDY ANGELS were the last line of defense against those kindred spirits gnawing on human bones and despair. They were brewing beer from blood and baking bread from hip bone grease … They were the lost.

GENERAL KLIIG held sway over the beekeepers and the Catholic nuns – he had a basement fun house for orgies and dirty spankings. His second in command, COL TRAN, ran the whiskey scene in China Town and his black-guards controlled all hooker flesh on the north side, not far from that abandoned library. His echo-princess, Tanya, spent her nights at Harry’s Bar … “it’s the best scene to be seen”, as she’d tell her sorority sister friends.

The general’s 4th RACIST ARMY was closing on Dayton, while Admiral Ping was moving his greaser navy past the checkpoint at Old Dallas. The submarine commanders were issued orders, and they knew that many folks were going to be burned.

As if trouble weren’t all over the bowling alleys, the BISHOP came along to offer assistance to those saucy natives running loose at the ZOO. Machine gun fire was everywhere, as naked onyx battle-bitches came screaming from all directions, carrying machetes and nothing else, with METH EYES and angry teeth.

STREEGLER moved his tank army to Los Angeles, where the EAST SIDE HOOLIES used rocket launchers from Germany to eradicate those STREEG-WHORE tiger-men. The AIR FORCE of Southern Gentlemen and hooker wives hit targets in NYC and Detroit.

SUICIDE BOMBS, programmed to be severely depressed, rained from above – like wet leaves in autumn and the crimson shower covered all those blessed and scattered by SKAG-VRAAM, the last of the TORMENT CHAIN GUARD.

People were expected to check their skin tone chart and determine sub-class or horde they are a member of …

Many saw darkness, so they chose the SEA-NYMPHS …

Many saw the light, so they became jungle-crackers and went for the swamps west of NOLA …

AFTER THE 25TH RACE WAR was over, many suspected that was it … okay … we had that … but no … the wars would continue into #26 …

SORGAN, the Helot-Skrib, controlled sector-33 and the outlying quadrants of region-12Z. He had blazing eyes and pale skin and jelly hands. His VERGON-TOON slave women covered themselves in skunk oil and treavous-juice. And when the clarion call of forever love showed up upon his shore, he forged seven alliances with the sky lesbians and the dingo-muck funkin-folk.

This was the order of battle:

1. Esther was tired and gave up her mink cloth.
2. Jonathan was eager, and fired his meat cannon at the gathering crowds.
3. The Jizz King won great victories, then was defeated by the Crips and Bloods.
4. Karen, Queen of Blood Rites, took time in the swamps of GIB – her arms were tattooed in blood signs and Devil margins.
5. Kelvin kept watch near the Eastern Passages, and fire bombed the three cloisters of T’arnoz.

And after the Battle of HOOG in 2099 AD, the teal guards rose up against the last black wench and stole her hurdy-gurdy. The black and yellow races forged a flesh pact, exchanging virgin priestess women and other fertile valleys.

The green and purple species joined forces against the white-cracker resistance …

Cooper-Smith, the warlord TAILOR, grew tired – so he joined forces with the mocha and trog people of sector-17.

And the 26th Race War was finished …

The dead lay decaying in the streets, the bonds of vengeance formed again. All the various colored and pale peoples kept their secret hatreds and prepared their death machines.

The cities were dust and rubble, soaked in kangaroo stool and possum entrails.

The world was/is an open wound.

And Me?

I am the prophet of fire …

If you were clever, you could design a shape-charge, like a super-sized claymore mine, into the tail gate of a truck. If you gave the driver bullet resistant glass and hearing protection, they could back up, fire the thing off, and drive away …

You could even design a near 360 degree deployment system into most modern trucks, and still give the driver a fighting chance at getting away.

But you should not do this.