Weaponry

The War on Terror rages. Powerful forces protect us from harm. We desire safety, and ease. But it goes too far. Nothing challenges anymore, there is no fear. Respect, audacity, Mystery and trembling have all fallen to commodity culture and Home Security Systems. Plato used to fear Art, for it was a powerful force in society; a challenging, mighty weapon. No longer. Art is now a coffee-table decoration, a trinket with blinking lights and moving parts, of which the question "What does it do?" now seems more appropriate than "What does it say?".

Green

I am cooking in my juices,
And I cannot find my way,
I am slicing up some bruises,
On a Moony Sort of Day,
With my Ego on my shoulder,
And my Id upon my knee,
I can hate just like a boulder,
Let it go and I am free.