The pace of the punishment turns to a gallop. A force march through tinsel and December’s dark days. A new veil… boxed and bowed with left over ribbon, and hand-me-down rituals, and the manufacture of miracles.

Like Black Friday, or the warehouse piece-peace-work… that brings a new tablet down from the mountain into your tribe’s hearth and home in just two days.


How apt and seamless this rerun of the middle ages. And dismissed with but gestures, a futile middle finger.

We truly live in magical times.



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