The Human: Jack, Orage & friends.

By the end of the summer of eighty-nine I was broken, an orgone generator that had been run to fast for too long and finally shattered into a million pieces like an exploding star infecting the collective unconscious of the entire simulation. My perversions, my fetishes, my most unspeakable sexual fantasy’s had become theirs. All of theirs and when I looked at America all I saw was the darkness in myself staring back at me. Crowley’s abasement of the eighties was complete. Gone was the pretentious Christian morality that had allowed Europeans to smugly murder and dispossess fifty million natives. Gone was the so said  Christian values that had allowed men to rationalize the most vicious war the world had ever seen. A war of aggression waged brother against brother with the only victor being an oligarchical union whose lies about freeing slaves cloaked designs for securing an unlimited pool of cheap labor from the agricultural South for the rapidly industrializing North. Throughout ...