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• Artiste: Dear Diary I Seem To Be Dead
• Titre: (zero)
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Nine years into the future--we're still counting the dead and the dying. We're still totaling countless hidden millions; the result of state terror. Still believing the lies of peace and prosperity: of a peace with thousands executed by disease, of a prosperity of millions on the street. And I have to wonder, what the fuck is it going to take? Can it be undone? Can we stem the tide of violence? Or are we going to sit back and relax and watch tv while havenots get their fucking heads kicked in over and over and over again. Are we going to keep counting the policies that failed? The lies--they worked, it worked, it worked, it worked. We swallowed them down deep. We swallowed them whole. Nine years later...