VOICE: A loudspeaker is hanging down from my ceiling. LIGHTNING seems to be striking out of it in a dramatic WWII PROPANGANDA poster style. It is screaming STATIC at me that a STEEL WIND blows through this moment in history. I see heavy brass STORM clouds scattering BULLETS into our own private spaces.
The TOTALITARIANS have won, I tell you.
A LIGHTNING attractor is pointing HEAVENWARDS, calling forth flashes. It heralds a new kind of WAR. A WAR fit for the FUTURE.
GUN barrels are entwined with PLASTIC wire drinking down radio waves through antennae.

GUN: … suspects QUESTIONING structure of COGNITIVE MAP. Apprehend with extreme prejud …

A CONFLICT of PLASTIC and METAL entwined, where fire dances its deadly TANGO with data. Harvesting sensitive INFORMATION to be sacrificed to the ancient AZTEC GODS in a show of POWER.The futurist poetic frenzied PROMISE of Manetti realised in blood, oil and ELECTRICITY. Deadly miasmic CLOUDS of NANOBOTS sucking whole countries dry. Insect-shaped DRONES eye-spying and scalpeling the RIGHT and WRONG people out of history.
CRY HAVOC and let the wild MOTORWOLVES loose upon the earth.
The FUTURE of WAR is sure looking rosy.



VOICE: Paul D. Brazill Almighty BLACK BAGS me then shines a LIGHT in my face and makes me cough up WORDS about TOTALITARIAN DRONE GROOVE over at BRIT GRIT ALLEY.