government regulates walking

Following a rash of locomotion-related injuries, the U.S. Department of Health proposed new laws to govern how and how quickly the American people should be allowed to walk. “Thousands of citizens are injured each year when they moving their bodies through this temporal realm at an increased speed without paying enough attention to where they are going,” said Hennrick Thallumann-Errins, the agency’s deputy director of public relations. “Once Congress passes provisional bill ST2240 b.d4, individuals who walk, run, jog, or otherwise move about in such a manner as to potentially harm themselves will face fines no greater than five hundred dollars or fourteen days in jail, per incident.” Walking occurs when a human’s upper body begins to fall forward but then catches itself with the legs, one after another, thus propelling it in a direction of the mind’s choosing. “The American people don’t seem to know how to get around on foot without running into household objects, tripping over curbs, stepping on errant rocks, or otherwise hurting themselves,” said Dr. Wilmina F. Fitzcharles, a gait specialist at the University of St. Stipan in Des Moines, Iowa, who was not directly involved with the proposed legislation. “Hopefully, these pending measures will ensure that people spend absolutely every iota of their brains’ attentive capacity on the act of walking, an act fraught with danger.” Legislation is being drafted to punish citizens who cannot perform similar daily tasks well, such as bathing, breathing, and swallowing. Due to the apparent absurdity of the laws mentioned above, most civil rights groups contacted for this story failed to comment.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

for-profit crosswalk

Tallahassee, Florida, made history today by switching on America’s first commercial road-traversing-assistance system. Composed of a pair of lights - red for ‘stop’ and green for ‘go’ - mounted atop a metal pole that has a credit-card reader bolted to it for processing payments, the system regulates foot-bound traffic across the eight-lane intersection at Sherman and Main Boulevards. With three strip-malls and two long-term elderly care centers, the intersection was apparently chosen for its potential to generate profits. “Following numerous complaints submitted by motor-vehicle operators apparently tired of waiting for slow-moving citizens to shuffle across this intersection at their own pace, we of the Tallahassee city council wisely decided to install this system,” said Ernesto Wainbight, the city’s deputy mayor. Manufactured by Assisted Crossing Inc. (ACI), from Atlanta, Georgia, the system charges pedestrians $2.50 for each crossing, a bargain according to company CEO Wendell F. Graus. “No driver I know is happy to see his way barred to allow some penniless walker to safely negotiate a busy intersection. And, with ACI’s new mobile-phone application, pedestrians in the process of negotiating the aforementioned intersection can now buy more time to cross the road, should they need it.” Each additional dollar spent extends a person’s crossing time by 30 seconds. Civil rights groups around the nation have criticized the move, claiming that it discriminates against persons who choose to change the temporal positions of their bodies using their own physical power, infringing upon their legal right to freedom of movement. “Foot-mobile citizens should be delighted that the price of a service they too long took for granted costs roughly the same as a cup of gourmet coffee,” Mr. Graus continued. “Nothing’s free in this life, especially not convenience, locomotion, or safety.” Eighty percent of the profits generated by the new system will be used to enrich the executive staff of ACI, whereas the additional twenty percent will fill the city council’s slush fund.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

Grigovia boycotts competition

Anyone watching the Mundi Venatus (an international festival of sportsmanship being held this year in Brazil) will notice the glaring omission of Grigovian gymnasts. Long hailed as one of the best overall teams to grace the world stage in recent decades, athletes and parathletes representing the Glorious Republic of Grigovia are for the fifth time staging a boycott of this purportedly highest level of competition. Their reasons for staying away include America’s continued and illegal killing of innocent civilians using armed unmanned aerial systems as well as recent leaks that highlight the corruption and greed endemic within the event organizers’ highest ranks. “We would of course love to participate,” said 16 year-old balance-beam specialist Ghreiya Yastyend, “but in protest of longstanding, inhumane Ynki brutality against our Afghani neighbors, we shall not attend.” Speaking from the media center of the sprawling National Gymnastic Sports campus in suburban Grig, the nation’s capital, other members of the Grigovian team gave similar reasons for staying away. “We boycott the Mundi Venatus out of principle,” said Dr. Heira Glougagon, head trainer of the men’s team. “The committee that runs it is made up of individuals who care more about personal enrichment than human life, who are indifferent to the destruction and destitution some of the nations hosting their event inflict upon helpless populations.” Joining Grigovia in their boycott of the Ludi Mundi are the Principality of Liechtenstein, the Jewish Independent Oblast, and the Islamic Republic of Iran.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

French ban crosses

In an emergency session of Parliament yesterday the legislative body of the French Republic announced a nationwide ban on religious symbolism. “Here in this glorious land, the birthplace of Avril Lavigne, it is henceforth forbidden to display any kind of religious symbol in a public place,” said Lorellayi Cheattou, deputy minister of the interior. “No longer shall the ankh, cross, evil eye, ohm symbol, star of David, star and crescent, dharmachakra (Buddhist wheel), or praying hands be allowed to potentially offend the sensitivities of onlookers by dangling on chains or other such contraptions from the necks of peaceable people.” Civil rights groups around the world immediately condemned the new law, calling it a crime against humanity because it robs people of the freedoms of religion and expression. “Given the spate of attacks carried out recently by ardent extremists, the secular paradise that is modern France cannot afford to have anyone become excited by the sight of any symbol or symbols that could even potentially cause them to become aroused,” said AnLuise Heimer-Guizou, the sitting president’s chief of staff. “Sécurité, conformité, asservissement. Whether by bootheel or riflebutt, calm shall be enforced to give the French people the peace they want.”

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

such unending blessings

The faces swept past and the toys piled up and deep we did drink from the rim of life’s cup and up he went swiftly on rides’ metal beams and bright ‘pon his face shone the heat of his dreams. I spent time and money shall gladly again treat him in the manner of a darling friend and teach him a lesson while waiting our turn about how another man’s respect to earn. It’s swell to be with him and learning his ways I cherish these our few last remaining days and hope to stay loyal to those ancient lessons that bestow upon us such unending blessings.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

letters and arts

Only time will tell if this gobbledegook will have had the power this world to have shook. Ich muss deshalb schreiben und das jeden Tag egal ob ich Zeit hab egal ob ich mag. For that I need focus and visual charts to help keep me sharp in the letters and arts. Ja gut ich bin sieben mal sieben mal zehn und alles was ist wird schnell genug vergehen.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on craving Kiefer’s Kefirs

There isn’t much in the far reaches of Earth that swells man with passion and fills him with mirth as a Kiefer’s Kefir fresh from the refridge - it’s swell for all ages from grandfolks to kids. Featuring fine flavors like berry and herb in tubs separated according to curd in batches fermented buried underground his Kefirs are the best that you’ll find around. The Kiefer himself oversees each last straining to make sure there won’t be customers complaining he’ll tweak fiddle mess with them throughout the night until he is sure they are completely right. If not in the boardroom he’s out in the fields broadcasting fresh-cut grass to boost his cows’ yields then back he’ll rush quickly to handle affairs that require breathing those Hollywood airs. His milks they make headlines from here to the coast of many gold medals he is proud to boast he’s risen far above his earthly-born station and that on the back of lactose fermentation. Just who is this genius with all the big plans? It’s the homie Kiefer ‘Top Dog’ Sutherland.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

tail and run

Our leaders are scumbags our cops break the law our money’s worth little our glaciers have thawed we poison the waters and dig up the land the sinister killing the dexterous hand. Huge banks receive trillions of dollars to stay afloat open solvent for a few more days the Army’s lost trillions too oh what a bummer but hey listen to this feel-good song for summer. Let’s fiddle along as the whole structure burns and be done with worry and doubt and concern instead lining up with our jackboots on tight with blood set to boil with torches alight. America’s bounty must not be spread out to hardworking peons and upstanding louts - it’s that of the elite who sit at the top who’ve found in taxpayers a sure source to tap who milk and who bilk us then turn tail and run to where they have hidden their wrongly gained sums. If this standard business continues apace there won’t be much left here on Earth for our race but paved-over wetlands but clouds of sour rain but legions of innocents suffering pain. To return to balance most us of must die (at least sixty percent if not eighty-five) whether from starvation or terror event - Mom Nature won’t rest ‘til her full wrath is spent. Sleep well in this knowledge do not get upset for there is some hope and promise for us yet provided we turn from our self-centered ways in these next few shallow and woebegone days.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

clad in black

Ron Bleibfest, former police chief of Willow Grove (AK) and current chairman of the Police Officers Regional & National Union (PORNU) addressed a group of reporters today to speak on recent controversies surrounding statements attributed to his organization. “We at Reggie Nash think that America should be as safe as possible,” he said whilst standing in the parking lot of an events hall somewhere near Baton Rouge, Louisiana. “Statistically speaking, people of Arab descent carry out more terrorist attacks than any other group, worldwide, as we have stated correctly. It makes sense, therefore, for we concerned citizens to monitor them and control their movements here at home, which is why, even if it makes us unpopular, PORNU supports the policies in question and stands behind the statements made.” A dozen men clad in black riot gear emerged from an unmarked van parked nearby, to form a phalanx behind Mr. Bleibfest. Armed with automatic rifles and wearing balaclavas, their name tags had been blacked using tape, as had the reference numbers on their shields. Mr. Bleibfest then shouted at dishwasher Luis Rodriguez, who was walking past on the way to a workshift, yelling at him to “Back up” and not “crowd me.” One of the masked agents immediately battered Mr. Rodriguez, grabbing him by the upper arm and yanking him backward. Not having seen his assailant, Mr. Rodriguez tried to pull away, after which he was forced to the ground by a half dozen officers shouting at him to “Stop resisting.” He was shot with a less-than-lethal device, maced, handcuffed, then taken to a waiting cruiser. “That man was clearly resisting arrest, which in a safe America cannot be tolerated,” Mr. Bleibfest proclaimed, chuckling with apparent joy. Warily, Regina Stockmight of the Southern Regional Journal, Jackson (MS) said, “The frequency of encounters in which police officers have shot unarmed individuals appears to be increasing. Do you think this is because police officers are acting more violently during roadside encounters, or that there are more people with cameras recording merely isolated incidents?” “Is that a weapon?” Ron then yelled, recoiling from the recording device the young lady was pointing at him. “I think she’s got a gun!” At the mention of the word gun, almost all of the blacked-out officers raised their weapons, with one of them firing a high-velocity round into the midsection of Ms. Stockmight. The fresh hole in her spine caused her to crumble to the ground. The agent who fired the round began to cry, whereupon one of his colleagues moved over to comfort him, stepping through the pooling blood and over the twitching body of Mrs. Stockmight. “That woman appeared to have a weapon, which caused me to fear for my life,” Mr. Bleibfest said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Therefore, her shooting was justified, as in a safe America police officers must be able to protect their own lives - at all cost and regardless of the health and safety of anyone who’s not a police officer. Let’s thank the brave, selfless men standing behind me today for protecting us from the type of dangerous and criminal elements that are threatening to tear this country apart.” Fifteen minutes later, an ambulance showed up to collect the dead body, and to treat the wounded hands of police officers who had spent the intervening minutes beating a few of the camera operators - for loitering.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

in our stead

None watch as she stumbles her back brilliant red from all of the lashes she takes in our stead. Her torch lays extinguished her rays bend askew her sash is in tatters she’s lost both her shoes her crown is well tarnished and the spark is gone from where in her visage it lived for so long. Then hounded assaulted and met on all sides is how Lady Liberty in the end dies should those who’re now living in the U.S.A. not come to her side and defend her today.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

a rowdy din

The human he loves him a good diversion, be it book sex running or television; that last one’s the worst for it pulls a soul in spellbinding with colors and a rowdy din. All plans and hopes crumble when its screen doth flash and hours are spent without bringing in cash and hours are spent with bum glued to the couch for lack of much movement one becomes a grouch. The cure is to jettison and throw away that T.V. set - not soon but now here today - and hone skills like just how to tell a story which must be done slowly not sped up or hurried. At least please don’t talk about shows that are good or how others simply must watch them and should get caught up on all of the action that blares between spots for companies selling their wares. The T.V. set cuts people off from their peers and keeps them divided for years upon years, and helps them think that talking heads tell the truth or that there were others besides John Wilkes Booth. So shut it off please at least but for a while and watch how your body responds with a smile and watch then your brain activate and reboot when vanished is that which is wasteful at root.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

dark & discreet

To fascist drumbeaters like Trump and Le Pen: we’re not at all surprised to see you again. Not more than a century back in the past was when we encountered and beat you at last but you showed up here in our calm midst again with confidence saying who’s foe and who’s friend. The masses you fool with a message of hate and promises to make brown folks emigrate but once wed with power corrupted you’ll be will drench in blood these shores from sea back to sea. Now fear stokes a fire that only is fed by listening to voices up in the head that champion anger and champion spite corrupting the ego both morning and night. This will not end pretty this will not end well and soon we’ll be swept into a right-wing hell where anyone who dares to strike or speak up will quick taste the heel of a jack-booted thug. With basic rhetoric and too-simple terms these wax-paper leaders the principles spurn upon which their nations long functioned and turned aloof to the lessons that history learns. So up now in unison we can defeat most any opponent or foe we might meet with methods bold brash brazen dark & discreet be it through the wires or out in the street. All antifa red-shirts anarchists and such who value their freedoms and value them much: let’s shake off the shackles of madness and hate and that without dally lest we be too late.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

Grigovia initiates union

On Tuesday, the Grigovian Council on Foreign Affairs and Interaction opened its application subcommittee to states, self-proclaimed territories, and separatist movements (from any region or people intent on gaining official sovereignty). To qualify, parties must prove their economy is fair-trade and that their foreign policy is attuned to peace rather than conflict, the principles of anarchic self-determinism rather than autocratic hegemony. Prospective candidates for inclusion are Indonesia, Iceland, Liechtenstein, and Andorra, among a few others, as they pretty much mind their own peace-loving business. Countries who must alter their ways before entry include the United Kingdom, the United States of America, and the Russian Federation, among others, as they tend to inflict their will upon peaceful peoples violently.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

nary a rut

If not in the heights of the mountains he prowls up there with the bears and the squirrels and owls where thin winds blow strongly and fire’s a threat then down to the flatlands and cities he’ll get. A good steed beneath him and food in his gut leaving not a wrapper and nary a rut, the smog-sled gets whirring and miles fly by while above does turn that bright star in its sky. The tools for the camping lie hidden beyond the gate where jet flight its first real tests won down here in the city though La Cieg and 3rd there’s steel and stone plenty but not many birds.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

some a too

Just what did she want to get into in life except being free of want hatred and strife? Was hers a wrong pathway or was it all right to spend her time wondering morning to night that she wasn't living up to her true worth to all the conditions set out at her birth? Questions may have answers but these won't be met at least not today or not soon and not yet for this path is crooked this white is tarnished – to some a too bitter and not tasteful dish.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

short teaching rhyme

When off on adventure when on walk-about it's wise to be vigilant inside and out. Do copy the customs of people that pass do bow to the statues and stay off the grass do help out the needy and wait for one's turn but do not give in when the ego's a-churn. By acting unlike a lame boorish tourist one might just gain access to what others miss and speak with a local or share a brief smile out here on these lovely and sun-dappled miles. By saying but little and letting things pass one might just gain memories, ones that will last, instead of just barging and barreling past all of the beauty and grace of this plane that never no never will occur again. So sit still be silent and cat-like just lounge while all of the others do hurry and scrounge for pixels and snapshots for souvenirs base while bustling quickly from this to that place. Right here is the moment right now is the time and so comes to end this here short teaching rhyme – huzzah for the warm bloods that course through my veins and for what by silence the open heart gains.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

her untarnished sword

Straight back to her warrens straight back to the source was where she would flee as a matter of course. With passions inflamed and a fire within she'd ratchet back fury and then soon begin to douse soothe and quiet with white stillness pure while hoping thus peacefulness long to ensure. Now out of this practice did emerge a path to lessen the sting and the bite of her wrath and usher in peacefulness there at her very core returning to silent compassion once more. When seeing the nothingness shine from her face her enemies quick for their redoubts would race abandoning their plans to upset her seat concerned but for themselves and their living meat. She rose from the ashes of unconquered Grig where little was moving chicken nor pig and pulled from the rubble her untarnished sword and uttered these hallowed legendary words: 'Good riddance invaders who now scamper forth we've proved to them today our true stalwart worth and saved our city and our precious lands from those foul rapacious those far-roving bands. Now pick up a shovel and help mend these walls and help now rebuild these vaulted meeting-halls and look not to vengeance but always to peace – there's no point in us too becoming such beasts. We praise Nuuzstathena and thank her anon for helping to ensure this battle was won and ask for her blessing upon those to come we humble Grigovians standing as one.' With that rose a cry from the gathering crowd of men dressed in rags and of women in shrouds who turned to their labors with much studied grace – huzzah for this high-mountain and hardy race!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

answer the beck

The sun in his glory the moon with her pull the heart cleared and empty the tight belly full the watchers in place and the mouth good and shut is what for believers a good life's about. It's not about piling up riches and gems or dividing people twixt the us and thems – it's about compassion and surrendering to the forces and powers unseen around you. The gods they are watching and we are the gods and nothing can even the weight of the odds and no single action can bring about peace for it must be practiced each day month and week. There's no grand finale no sudden insight that can bring us seekers back into the light for we must be prudent and set aside space to witness the absolute at its own pace. With mouths shut and silent and egos in check and evil within us reduced to a speck we enter that moment where death cannot reach the void from which nothingness might teach might preach. So off to the su'uvyiet Grigovians all to answer the beck and to answer the call of Wu and its power to Wu and its light that drives out mind-demons that ushers in light. A great stillness mounting will settle the score with all of the sadness that we've known before and bring back the balance that we tend to lose when strong and incessant is ego's abuse.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

writing and riding

We are at the start of another new year – it's one of the monkey and one of good cheer. The last one is over we sit here silent and pray that the demons' foul energies went up over this island and missed us again we Balinese women and stout Western men. The yoga is over, meditation soon – for dealing with structures that threaten to ruin the course of this whorphan the course of E'e E'e this one who loves writing and riding the sea. Next to him are Frenchmen their chatter is daft before him's a future both tranquil and vast for he's on the cusp of a big changing time and all of his chips pile up on the line. With daily traditions he can alter course and make some things better hopefully none worse and rise from the ashes of all of the fears that have plagued and battered him lo' these long years. By keeping a witness in the seven nodes he plans to uproot and throw out many loads of energies stagnant and energies foul and mirror the wisdom of Athena's owl. The sun it has set now the land it is dark he can but hear scattered mechanical barks above him is bat stork and a night-hawk too – huzzah for this starting afresh and anew!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

eaters and then

With eggs in its stomach and blood on its beak the little mosquito his weak-points did seek. It flew from the cover of a hanging shroud disguised in the plume of his recent vape-cloud and made not a sound that his ears could detect and to his sharp eye was but a tiny speck. He reached out and grabbed it with a sudden move and with that quick gesture his watchfulness proved to none but himself and to no one at all for he then took pity that death did befall. It was me or it and I want no disease, he said as he watched its weak twitching then cease and wiped its wee carcass from his greasy thumb concerned by the cruelty of what he'd just done. In this life there's eaters and then there are prey and only the lucky will see their next day and only the fortunate get to still strive though none of us living will get out alive.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

nothing but godliness

Give in to surrender, she told them at dawn, Retreat not an inch though 'til this battle's won. The enemies outside they cannot compare to those on the inside who from our eyes stare. The ego is massive if we give it power wherefore we just witness it each waking hour. Those foes in their trenches can huddle and wait until we here unmoving have accepted fate and cleared our vision of need want and woe – thereafter to meet them we will duly go. Therefore keep on breathing and settling down until all the coils and snares are unwound until human passion has melted away with nothing but godliness left in its place. With that she stopped talking and sat herself too as the foul artillery whistled anew as hands pounded hard at the doors to within as outside men bayed for the fight to begin. When their hearts were voided of fear want and hate they massed at the beams of their stout wooden gate and rushed sallied streamed forth in a crashing tide and fought 'til the last of their enemies died. With their homeland safe and their heart-spaces filled they buried the bodies of all who'd been killed and held a great funeral solemn and grave and marked the new mound with a large wooden stave. We vanquished not only an outside force here but also the ego and all that it fears, she said without passion or pride in her tone, Which makes this two battles that we have just won. Say prayers for the fallen make sacrifice too and carry these lessons in all that you do: take time to be empty of want honor pride and sally forth evermore filled with white light.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

upward to go

There is now a goddess who helps to unmask the pain and the suffering lodged in the past. We carry these burdens along with ourselves and place them on dusted and egoic shelves that sit in the head-space that keep coming back to make our bright daytimes quite sullen and black. Her name it is Gha-li she has many arms and quick is the wit of her powerful charms and from her do radiate rays from the spine that pierce destroy rebuild – each one in its time. A necklace of skulls drapes down to her waist her long tongue the tears of the righteous tastes her eyes see all things that we think feel and do she crushes then remakes us – we broken – anew. With thick awesome power she walks among us and none can escape her most far-reaching thrust that pieces the lies that we tell ourselves oft that keep us from soaring – we godlings – aloft. Invoke her when on a new path setting forth to test long-held notions for intrinsic worth when cleansing the chakras or the inner state when bringing realities held up-to-date. She'll stand there unmoving through tempest and gale before her gaze all that's unworthy will fail and leave one devoid of all sadness and woe with nowhere but forward and upward to go.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

aid she flew

Now there is a tale of a woman in white who lead some lost children back home of a night. They'd been on a journey to visit their kin when in the thick forest a snowstorm set in. The light it was failing the snow piled deep and soon the hill-slope became ragged and steep. One by one they tumbled on down to its base with but a few scratches on hand-pad and face then huddled there freezing knew not what to do and that's when the maiden to their aid she flew. She came out of no-where from out of the night and cured them of worry and lessened their fright and draped them in robes that could have been her hair and led them forthwith to a mountaineer's lair. A fire was burning and much wood was stacked there in that wee shelter that wanderer's shack and rich stew was cooking and so was hot tea to which they responded with exhausted glee. Each ate to his liking each drank to her full and then settled down on soft beds of thick wool and woke in the morning to knocks on the door and heavy boots stamping on the outside floor. Some woodsmen had gathered and were shocked to find all children accounted for none left behind and asked how they'd come to the shelter although the paths through the forest were covered in snow. The children they mentioned the woman in white who had saved their hides on the previous night the woodsmen they nodded not one of them smiled and led then the children back out of the wild but paused to give thanks at some shrines on the way as they headed back to the brightness of day.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on traveling magi

From far in the west came some wise-men to see just what we were up to in high-mountain Grig. They stayed for 4 fortnights and wrote down our tales they toured our country each marsh meadow vale they lay down with women and spoke with them too and introduced teachings both ancient and new. When rumors of discord did reach our ears the sages they set off to confront their fears that what they'd left behind had been broken down by wild men beholden to nary a crown. A year did then pass and then one year-long more when once again magi did knock on our doors to tell of destruction and heartbreak and woe to ask us for shelter from wild beast and snow. We brought them in kindly and fixed them a feast of goose-meat and bread made without using yeast and asked them for news of the first who had come then wept upon hearing what to them'd been done. All tried as heretics by a new-crowned king they had been first stripped of their fine finger-rings then thrown into dungeons deep dark dank and droll where sickness and hunger did take a harsh toll. Not one of them made it not one did survive to see the new king drawn and quartered alive and schools for such learning as they did once teach spring up from the ashes and extend its reach. There are here some streets named after those sages that we still use now after so many ages and they are B'althazar Me'elkuur and Kaspahr in honor of wise-men who once traveled far.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

Michigan goes biblical

In a landmark act of religious extremism, the U.S. state of Michigan passed laws yesterday to establish Old Testament, Christian rule over its people. “With the blessing of the holy father, we've added these riders to House Bill HMR.447.42, thus returning the rites, customs, and institutions of this great state back to where they belong – the Bronze Age,” said House Speaker Ruth Geihrtruud (R), of Grand Rapids. “Accordingly, any farmer who sows more than one crop in the same field must be killed; anybody wearing clothing woven from two different materials must be put to the knife; any child that curses his parents must hang until deceased; anyone who eats a cheeseburger must perish; any man who trims the edges of his beard and any woman who speaks in church will suffer an ultimate punishment – the swift and brutal cessation of his or her life.” Much like Daesh (ISIS), which intends to impose an Islamic caliphate across the Middle East – and thence, the world – the state of Michigan has abandoned all reason as well as the principle of the separation of church and state by forcing its citizens to live according to the rules of one religion, in particular. “There are roughly 610 ironclad rules for virtuous living found in the holy text,” continued Geihrtruud, who has since her teenage years spent every period of menstruation in a shack far removed from the rest of humanity, as Yahweh intended. “Disobedient slaves, practicing sodomists, and people who seek psychological help will be wiped from the face of the earth so as to ensure that we righteous few who believe in the true word of god might live our lives as the holy father intended – free to do unto others as he commanded, and in so doing, to create a new Jerusalem on these shores and secure for ourselves a seat by his side, in heaven.” Immediately after the passage of House Bill HMR.447.42, squads of armed Christian zealots set about destroying places of false idol worship across the Wolverine State, among them mosques, synagogues, and shrines erected in honor of the state's football mascots.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

on Grigovian features

The Glorious Republic of Grigovia is a landlocked nation in Central Asia. Its neighbors are Iran, Turkmenistan, and Afghanistan. Roughly 200 kilometers north-to-south and 160 kilometers east-to-west, the first known reference to Grigovia is in 'The Histories,' by Herodotus. Marshy bogs lie to the south and west of its capital, Grig (population 120 thousand), which sits on an elevated plateau in the southern foothills of the Yiptlong Massif mountain chain. The Yiptlong has significant deposits of iron-ore, coal, and sulfur that have been mined for centuries. West of the capital is Pyltagrad, a culture-rich city of roughly 50 thousand inhabitants. East of the capital is the Great Dune Sea, an arid former lake bed; Gar Nuuzsch, population 60 thousand, is the primary city in the east – its patroness is Nuuzstathena, goddess of war, technology, and guile. Other deities include Ganestrix (an ant-headed goddess of travel and good fortune) and Oumbast (goddess of cats as well as gracefulness in the face of overwhelming odds). The main city in the south is Pryaghdoyest, an export-oriented manufacturing hub, population 75 thousand; north-east of Pryaghdoyest is an arid plateau with significant deposits of rare-earth metals. Tens of thousands of Yaelong tribes-people call this nation home, living scattered about, primarily in the Yiptlong Massif. Known for their fierce independence and fervent defense of the high plateaus, the Yaelong were feared by Alexander the Great as well as subsequent invaders. A parliamentary democracy with strong socialist traditions, the Grigovian royal family abdicated in the early 20th Century in a sign of respect for the nation's growing anarcho-communist movement, which is still strong today. Group workshops and livings spaces known as 'su'uvyiets' provide training and support in a wide variety of crafts, trades, and skills, each 'su'uvyiets' operating under the loose umbrella of its mother organization. Never in its history has Grigovia been fully conquered (it was the only fully autonomous republic of the USSR), largely because of an extensive tunnel system that runs under almost all of Grig. Most of these tunnels are well maintained and still in use as winter shelters, manufacturing areas, and weapons stores. Robotic and autonomous buses serve outlying villages, and the capital features a dense network of public transportation systems – trams, trolleys, and 4 subway lines. Renewable energy powers roughly 60% of electricity needs, and plans call for the nation to receive nearly all of its power from wind and geothermal sources by the year 2030. Modern Grigovia traces its founding to the semi-mythical Krukuv, a former monk who settled there sometime during the 9th Century C.E., digging a series of deep and sturdy tunnels (for to store his beloved tubers) and taking a Yaelong bride as his mate. Popular recreational activities include hiking, cycling, folk festivals, story-telling competitions, martial arts training, and winter sports; camping is permitted on all public and many private lands. Famous for its tendency to warmly receive immigrants fleeing war and economic turmoil, the population of Grigovia has increased by nearly 9 percent in recent years due to the ongoing conflict in Syria. With strong banking houses, a robust services sector, and a variety of cottage industries that make everything from coo-coo clocks to firearms, the Grigovian economy has proven all but immune to international market volatility, being able to quickly retool according to shifting demand while keeping unemployment at well under 3% for a population nearing 400 thousand souls. In the decades since the Rus and Ynki invasions of Afghanistan, trade with Iran has increased tenfold, primarily heavy machinery from Grigovia's well-developed manufacturing sector. An outspoken critic of Ynki involvement in regional conflicts across the globe, the Glorious Republic of Grigovia has repeatedly demanded that the various peoples of the world enjoy the right to determine their own path in life for themselves, free of foreign intervention. For more on all things Grigovia, please visit www.welcomehome.ggv.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

tricksy and wise

The Yaelong are shrewd clever tricksy and wise yet speak always truthfully and without lies. They train their kids to be the bearers of truth to employ no falsehood the ego to soothe. With bones hard from labor and stout bellies full they suffer not lightly the presence of fools yet sit there unmoving on high plateaus steep for days upon end without squirming or sleep. With hand rock and blade-edge they've been known to kill yet avoid their blood-lust and passions to fill yet act with due patience 'gainst friend and 'gainst foe yet learn to unlearn all the learning they know. We who live among them do not fear their rage for they've stood unmoving for many an age and have well defended Grigovian lands with landslide or cunning or sticks in their hands. To live up among them is a noble feat; most modern men know only clumsy deceit; most modern men give up when going gets tough; most modern men rely on gadgets and stuff. So spend you a weekend or a longer spell where Yaelong and sundry do gather and dwell to learn with them wisdom and how to let go of all that they never knew you didn't know.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

in spiritual havens

There up from the warren of tunnels she'd creep to visit him only when he was asleep. Her home is now lit bright where once it was dim – that maze of deep passages hidden within. It was once a house filled with dark hallways and rooms where too long his sadness he'd sheltered and groomed; then it was a mansion a seaside abode where many emotions he'd packed up and stowed; now it is an alcove with one or two stairs this place where to visit he doth proudly dare. What started in Texas is blooming, you see, in spiritual havens on wild Bali, brought forth through hard labor and great inner toil these places whence much of his failure doth boil. The ego did do it did hide these things deep to later catch him up while counting his sheep but he understands that the voice in his mind is not one that's truthful virtuous or kind; the ego is weaker than this awake heart for here from the place of his feet he will start to root out the sadness that lies at his core and live in harsh brightness henceforth, evermore.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

there and be

Grigovian communes are hearty and neat for they are the place where the like-minded meet. There's one for us writers who practice our craft and one for the tenders who measure out draft and one for the farmers and one just for girls and one for such strongmen who bench-press and curl. Most memberships open to all who might come and welcome all applicants old middle young who want to gain knowledge and insight and skill who want to learn how to live free from all ill. There's one meant for thinkers where they can discuss the issues and problems that affect all of us and one for those people who aren't sure which commune upon them exerts the most lure. To join one is to strike out upon a path of learning such things as crop-sowing or maths or self-defense politics philosophy or how to let go and just sit there and be. Together we can lift up ourselves to great heights and make ourselves ready for foreigners' slights and make ourselves strong and smart best as we can in chapters spread all across this our dear land.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

governor slays dealers

True to his pledge to publicly execute persons harming Mainers, the state's governor, Paul Le Page, today beheaded two (2) executives of a leader sugar corporation as well as two (2) convenience store owners. “These sick – and now, thankfully, dead – people conspired to advertise and sell products packed with toxic levels of their addictive substance to children,” the governor said whilst standing in fresh, pooling blood. “Hooked, those children continued to consume 'White White' until they reached adulthood, when the substance commonly known as sugar overwhelmed their kidneys, which failed. Despite the best treatment available here in our great northern state, fine Mainers succumbed to the damage wrought upon them by the uncaring and solely profit-oriented importers of deadly, addictive, and highly-processed saccharose.” The governor's aides have issued threats against the importers and distributors of alcohol and cigarettes as well as the manufacturers of firearms, and knives. “Let this be a warning to anyone who dares distribute potentially dangerous items to the good people of my beloved Maine,” Le Page said, sweeping his arm over the cooling bodies piled at his feet. “We will not rest until anyone who offers for sale things that might harm us is six feet under.”

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

into something new

The rock in its crevasse the bird in its tree are there for a reason quite unknown to me. I can't see its outline can't grasp lasso noose the deep underlying immutable truth that lies at the heart of this world I live in that's been there before it did even begin. Its contours are shady its net spans the sky it lives in the twinkle loosed from a child's eye it sounds in all barking and every squeak and though it's Unknowable it's far from weak. To miss it's a tragedy words cannot measure and it does care neither for pain nor for pleasure but only for balance which always comes back which sits at the center not white and not black. To hold to it I must learn to let all things go and act without acting and like water flow and stick to what lies at the core of my Self and care not for honor or disgrace or wealth. I praise it in all things both tiny and large am learning to let go and put it in charge to bask in the frailty of this mortal coil and work to keep living when it's turned to soil. To do this I polish the swastika there in its 3rd position its bright golden lair and mete out its power when the time is right and squint not at daylight nor stumble at night. This is not a lie it is what's true for me I post in this space for all man to see then turn back to doing what I love to do – to re-purpose rubbish into something new.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

those rickety heaps

The left one is winning the right one is not and he now knew less than he might have forgot. His hands they were shaking his heart it was cold and bitter from long years of stories he'd told himself and to others about his low worth about such abuse as he'd suffered from birth. He knew not a way out not where he'd soon be or whether he should let his closest friends see the anguish and suffering buried below that had held him back and made his progress slow. Then one day he woke up and had had enough and finally turned 'round to face his past stuff and finally gave up his grasp on his grief those rickety heaps of it those well-stacked sheafs. It wouldn't be easy to stare it all down but he knew if he dug in and stood his ground he'd step from the shadows of what had once been and allow the healing to start and begin.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

those rickety heaps

The left one is winning the right one is not and he now knew less than he might have forgot. His hands they were shaking his heart it was cold and bitter from long years of stories he'd told himself and to others about his low worth about such abuse as he'd suffered from birth. He knew not a way out not where he'd soon be or whether he should let his closest friends see the anguish and suffering buried below that had held him back and made his progress slow. Then one day he woke up and had had enough and finally turned 'round to face his past stuff and finally gave up his grasp on his grief those rickety heaps of it those well-stacked sheafs. It wouldn't be easy to stare it all down but he knew if he dug in and stood his ground he'd step from the shadows of what had once been and allow the healing to start and begin.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

lust far behind

It's time now to lessen the thoughts of the mind and leave such afflictions as lust far behind. By reaching and wanting and trying to grasp one stands there just panting with deep choking gasps one misses the options that may lie beyond one takes up war weapon not peace-making frond. So sit there unblinking and watch it all pass return to the Mother whose power can last so place not importance on this or on that on buttocks well toned or on tits' supple fat. There's nothing one can do to pull someone near except maybe make empty space twixt the ears and clear out attachment thirst hunger desire and keep room for what many call holy fire. While this may sound easy it's anything but for thoughts needs emotions do constantly jut and constantly hamper the efforts of they who seek to find Happiness now here today. Don't give up keep trying stay empty stay bland and be that bright shining star right where you stand; great fortune is coming but so is great pain – it's better to face them with soul-space unstained.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

shelter and sweets

What few homeless people still live in the streets were given this Solstice-Time shelter and sweets. Mere citizens did it, not the state's agents, did go out and knock on those crude makeshift tents did gather belongings in bag tote and box and bring in said vagrants for champagne and lox. A few things were stolen – some knickknacks at best – but for the most part such light fingers did rest and reached for a napkin or reached for the salt and with their loud smacking their hosts did exalt. More of them did stay there to lend helping hands than went back outside to roam once more the land; some cannot be cured of their need to be free to wander and gather their food from the trees. We here in Grigovia believe it's best to bring those with little straight into our nests to wash fête and furnish them with what they need be in a warm blanket or an honest feed. Ganestryx as well as fair Nuuzstathena do smile on they who hold anathema the notion that only the worthy deserve our food love and jackets our kindest of words. So open your doors to whomever may knock for she may be a goddess stood there in just socks in need of a kind and compassoinate word – or maybe a bit of that well-cooked Solst bird.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

water is ours

Our water is ours it is not for sale so stop sending writs of request in the mail. We need it to grow crops and keep ourselves clean and for making power with ground-heated steam. Should we to you sell it for one hundred years confirmed would be our few but longstanding fears concerning dependence and big business greed wherefore we will keep this here wet for our needs. Should such corporations as Coke and Pepsi be allowed to gobble up sources, you see, then soon they will raise prices for you and me and we'll have to scramble to get some clean drink and naught will then flow from well faucet or sink. Grigovian landscape will therefore stay wet and nary a drop of our water you'll get to bottle up and sell what must be kept free – that's how it is now and that's how it will be.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

methods and arts

All safe in our hiding-holes buried below we weather wild winters with faces aglow. There's vents for the fires that keep us here warm and plenty of food-stores to feed us through storms and wells for our water and blankets for night and dances and merriment for our delight. For miles they extend our well-maintained caves where we escape snowfall or months weeks and days; they help us stay fresh for the battles we'll fight against such fool nations as our borders slight. We go up for training and line up in ranks then march off through wind-gusts and piled snow-banks then march back to warm up our chilled bones again – each of us who can walk all women and men. The tubers are safe in their stout wooden stores and stout is the wood of our out-facing doors and stout is the fire that burns in our hearts as are our Grigovian methods and arts.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

and raven hair

Slow it down and take a breath – hurry only hastens death. From the hilltop mountains high loudly sounds the eagle's cry shrill its warbling crass its tone bouncing over rock and stone then it meets this human ear and I think Oh, what's that I hear? Timmy's lost in yonder well and gone is youth's short-lasting spell and now I sit here old and frail with little but a chair and pail? Ah whatever all is good for bright is my impending mood and soon I'll meet a woman fair in spandex tights and raven hair.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

tally and keep

Now pause at the entrance to house temple glen and feel for the telltale threshold guardians who stand at the ready who stand at the watch who can and will best-laid plans ruin and botch. They may be invisible to the plain eye and soundless is each of their soft warning cries but that doesn't mean that they've gone off to sleep for records eternal they tally and keep. So stand for a moment and clear out each want and loosen the heart-strings should they be too taut and ask then the watchers to pass unmolested for theirs is a power that cannot be bested. They'll tangle tent tie-downs and foul every mount if you should the rites to them carelessly flout so set down an offering – salt drink or bread – right after you pause there with an emptied head to thank them for keeping the place where you'll rest free of such bad spirits that harm and molest. It just takes a moment for them to approve your need there within them to settle and move; therefore it is wiser to ask their permission and beg for their blessing in heartfelt submission.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

swift merciless clean

We received an invite a solemn request to come join the forces now fighting Daesh. The head of all Syria, Assad, his name, did ask that we help him to remove the stain that spread from the ruins of Saddam's Iraq that threatens us heathens with steady attack. Not far from our borders these terrorists kill and suckle at hatred's most foul-smelling swill and seek to reduce all that's been free of late under an immoral and strict caliphate. They are not real Muslims defend not their home but rather desire to reduce to bone and rubble and dust all they can't comprehend all that their weak egos does seem to offend. We've learned from the Kurds just what frightens them most and that is a well-armed and feminine host who we've now assembled from our defense forces who will head to battle on foot or on horses. They'll march into battle united as one a thousand proud daughters not one single son they'll bring to the front every ounce of their power and hound and abuse Daesh hour by hour. They'll dig attack-tunnels and show Daesh scum the strength of the wily Grigovian woman and tear out his eyeballs and stab out his liver and be hard death-merchants not tender life-givers. Once they are successful we'll send many more to pound at the caliphate's wall fence and door and mock him by singing bright songs from their youth and teaching him Islam's most enduring truth: that to kill an innocent soul body face is to kill every member of the human race that such evil actions do not go unseen but are met with justice swift merciless clean.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

signals and tones

Stuck there in the firmament jagged and vast is a foreign object whose mere presence casts the story of mankind the story of We into much confusion doubt controversy. The Black Knight was spoke of by Tesla The Wise who'd peer to the heavens with augmented eyes who claimed that he heard from it signals and tones which proved that we're not in this quadrant alone. The Ynki they filmed it and Rus he did too this satellite that's neither ancient nor new that flies high above us without pause or spin that sits there like waiting for us to begin to shed our warlike and too-greedy ways and live out in peace-love the rest of our days. Will it soon awaken from its hearty slumber and show us its great and vast technical wonder or will it stay quiet and not move an hair just basking in northern lights and solar flares? There's no one among us who has any answers with a solid theory or a truthful stanza so let's just ignore it a little bit more until its wee aliens pound on the door.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

wisdom-filled scriptures

With bogs full of crawling things fat skinny small and forests of conifers stunted and tall and great rolling deserts much bursting with sand we're proud of the various parts of our land. We work to protect them these strange biotopes our arid flatlands and tree-less alpine slopes our waterfalls running down much-crannied faces our high icy dangerous mountain-top spaces. Please come if you're looking for diversity to pique your abounding curiosity for ours is a nation fit for many pictures that lives but by Nature's own wisdom-filled scriptures. With long-standing customs to celebrate change and landscapes from basin to flatland to range we welcome you kindly and do hope you'll stay for many a fortnight for many a day. From Grig it's a short hike to beautiful sights where we and the tourists do pause for delight so strap on those booties and bring along lunch and set off just solo or in a big bunch. Our high haunting vistas will fill up your soul our low-lying meadows will leave their due toll upon all that you've ever thought to hold dear so come by and visit us – do it this year!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

for to fulfill

Awash in the splendor of their adulation he marveled at his own tremendous creation. It rose to the heavens his towering spire while much was the outrage and anger and ire of a paltry handful of religious types who bit back their verbiage and swallowed their gripes. Soon after, they sat down to hatch out a plan to return to 'god's sway' their precious homeland for forcing all peoples who did settle there to give up their sciences worldly and fair. From out of the tower came precise predictions about when to plant and some new forms of diction that dealt with the stars and the moon and the sun which quickly infected most everyone. The people they praised all the progress they saw and gathered agape and did gather in awe to which the religious types pulled out more hair and increased their efforts to strangle the air straight out of the beast as they called it together the beast that could better (than they) know the weather. While digging around in the depths of their creed they found a new tool for to fulfill their need to pull down false idols and return to ways that they had been preaching for too many days. Set loose on the people this tool all speech crushed and hither and yon in much panic they rushed these poor simple citizens who'd been much pleased that science could lesson their labor and need. His city in tatters his tower pulled down the man did then flee with his scepter and crown to look for a people who shared his new tongue where he could resume with his research anon. The types of religion they pulled out more hair for they couldn't talk with the people still there could not spread their message of monotheism and did then retreat to their monastic prison to draw up more schemes how to fix what they'd done – oh their's was a true Pyhrric victory won.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

the shimmering haze

She spoke not a whisper but stood there and looked and that simple gesture his knee-bones it shook. Her breast-piece was radiant epaulets too and naught was a nipple stuck there on her boob, and dark was the skin of her body and hair as she leaned in closer to poignantly stare. A fence in between them did keep her within and him on the outside stood there looking in and then she did turn her back letting him see the eyes in wing-clusters – a thousand and three. With nary a movement she was then away but turned back again in the light of non-day to once again meet up with his tracking gaze then once more did move through the shimmering haze. Twice more she appeared little more than a speck whence he did awake with a sweat-sheen bedecked and spoke to his mates born and bread in Bali about the dark angel he'd happened to see. 'She was the house guardian, that's what we think, so watch whom you bed down and watch what you think, and give her an offering, candy perhaps, and clear out all worries from your deep mind-traps, and light her some incense when you your home make and take care the needs of the gods here to slake for their power is such that they'll harm or care for people who in this place to settle dare. Now speak a few words to her and all the others for they are fierce fathers and all-watchful mothers.'

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

madmen to date

Ho Ho who's that calling? It's ISIS / Daesh but they are not bringing a flash Xmas crèche; instead it's that nasty old bringer of death – their old-timey favorite suicide vest. These cunts got their start in a cesspit of hate that has trained up many cruel madmen to date, Bin Laden and Saddam (but they are now gone) and those that threw over the Shah of Iran. Central to its mission are ladies and gents who lack of most true signs of Intelligence – instead they use sick people, lame ones you see, who've relinquished love's long-lasting Agency. Each time it's not different each time it's the same their backstabbing spy-bullshit overthrow game: the Ynki think 'Oh, we don't like that there prez, but this guy will do just what ever we says,' then they fund and train him and all of his mates and duly release them at the palace gates. Trained up to maim torture and not care a shred how many civilians are left lying dead the new cunt then goes in and uses his tools to make Ynki look like a bunch of weak fools. Embezzling billions from his country's riches he (most times) turns loose his foul suicide bitches and flies into buildings some planes that he stole then crawls into a tiny earthen-bound hole. Each time now the Ynki says, 'Oh, who's to blame for that man who brought upon mankind such shame?' without ever looking into a mirror and seeing that he is the cause of such horror. They're probably coming for me as we speak my limbs and my spirit to pummel and break but I say: fuck terrorists of ev'ry stripe you won't steal a wink from my sleepings tonight for I do not fear cuntlings such as you are nor bombs or bugs that you might put in my car but voice my thoughts freely and sovereign too and bid you much failure in all that you do.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

type of terror

With heartbreak and torment they wanted to do the trite type of terror that only they knew. With bomb-vest and rifle with knife caltrop tweet and seeking to rip up society's sheet they woke up that morning and spoke the due rites to all that is Evil both daytimes and nights. With sadness before them and cruelness behind they sat there then brooding all trapped in the mind aloof to the madness that would be their act their thoughts turned to all of the corpses they'd stack. Then off for the market or off for the game they went seeking Islam to slander and shame to murder their victims whose only real crime was being alive at wrong place and wrong time. To counter these madmen with bomb missile round is a policy far from both solid and sound for they can then paint us as murderous apes who blow up things then go back home to eat crepes. A simple solution is to first show love to second stop praying to forces above to third starve their bellies and stop buying oil then fourth maybe put these fools under the soil. With all of the money we've spent making war to now find ourselves with such cunts at our door just shows that our efforts to date weren't true wherefore we'd be wise to go try something new. By opening doors to each poor refugee who flees Daesh violence by land or by sea is to prove to ourselves that we are still kind that we can leave all of our anger behind and then stand together united as one until war and sadness have finally gone.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

a foul fortune

There was a foul fortune that showed up one day but each of us knew it would ruin our day. Its origins shady its true purpose masked yet there in the bright and harsh daylight it basked. A full ton of greenbacks much covered in gore sat there at the stoop of our unvarnished door and reeked to the heavens and caused a small scene yet all of us knew it was too far from clean for us to accept it and spent it on goods so we duly dragged it out back to the woods. We there tried to burn it up far from our yard but were with high treason first sentenced then charged by agents arriving from central D.C. who set about shackling us with howling glee. 'This was some blood-payment, your taxes helped kill, those terrorist madmen who maim and haunt still but since you rejected this money we gave we'll send you all quietly to unmarked graves. You spoke out too oft 'gainst our World War of Terror and that was your final and quite fateful error for yours was agreement both tacit and true that granted our forces the power to do things like bombing hospitals and wedding guests and yes a few madmen in suicide vests. Collateral damage is part of the game and now we will visit upon you the same for you sat there scared in your comfy abode and let us your precious protections erode. The U.S. is fascist and we like it thus and now you will feel the full might of our thrust for we cannot stand by and let you all go your seedlings of doubt hope and thoughtfulness sow. Your neighbors are timid they took the cash in and sat back as we blew up their far-distant kin and turned on the TV and ate up their snacks and cared not if we bombed a few run-down shacks in Yemen or Iraq Niger Pakistan or slaughtered child grandpa or fleeing woman. Your neighbors were smarter than you by a mile just look as they gaze at us with empty smiles for they are fat clueless and good worker bees who kowtow on broken and muddy stained knees whenever we show up to round up dumb fools who criticize such great American tools as rain missiles unseen from skies blue and bright in manners resembling the terrorists' fright. Goodnight then you foolish ones who dared to speak that one time not long ago by a few weeks – your voices forever we extinguish here to prove that our resolve is frightfully clear.' With that we were garroted making no sound and dumped without rites into holes in the ground our home was demolished our memory banned by what was not long ago an honest land.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

high and hidden

Stuck deep in the furrows of some icy crags were small votive offerings bound up in rags. Just who had done placed them up there long ago is to us a mystery but we now know the form of the offerings what they resemble as with patient diligence we disassembled reach tightly-bound package each tiny wrapped thing that's been well-protected from harsh weathering. The first is a man-shape the second a fox the third is bird in a small wooden box the fourth is an arrow the fifth is a snare for catching small game such as weasel or hare. With patterns and writing they are decorated and their deep importance cannot be inflated for they are as old as the oldest of traces that mankind has left in high and hidden spaces. We'll study these totems with photon x-ray but not let them sit in the harsh light of day and after we've probed them and measured their stuff they will be returned to their rocks cold and gruff. We'd rather they sit there than in a glass cage so that they'll protect us again through this age of conflict and sadness of war famine blight that threatens to dampen mankind's shining light. We thank our fore-bearers who hid them on high and promise much harder to labor and try to end war and anger to end poverty to spread hope and love to him you her and he.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

America (kinda) apologizes

At a sparsely-attended ceremony held among the dying stalks of the White House's rose garden, American president Mr. Barack H. Obama delivered an apology, of sorts. 'Here, today, the United States of America, this great nation, wants to apologize to all the countries that, since the late 1800s, we have invaded, bombed, or otherwise tramped upon unceremoniously, primarily to protect corporate interests headquartered in but not necessarily paying taxes to the United States, of America. These nations include but are not limited to Nicaragua, Iraq, Honduras, Cuba, the Philippines, Mexico, Russia, Angola, Laos, Cambodia, Japan, and of course Vietnam. Look, we're sorry for killing untold millions of your people and making off with millions of tons of your resources, but we needed it. OK? We needed to spill your blood so that the folks making weapons here back home would be able to work. To put food on the table. To keep their kids in shoes and coats. And we needed your oil, your bananas, your rubber, your sugar, everything you had then and might still have, and we will probably need it again, tomorrow or the next day, because with the economic system we have in place now, our people are used to paying prices kept cheap by the constant threat and very real application of violence, and all that stuff we take from you gets thrown into landfills after people have used it maybe just once or twice, and then we go out and get more of it instead of designing a system that is closed and self-supporting, one in which consumer products are designed to be reused, and recycled, over and over again.

'But if we find out you have something we didn't know we needed, something we suddenly cannot live without, we're going to come right back in and cluster-bomb your cities, wipe out your infrastructure, and then take from our own people the money needed to pay independent contractors who charge us exorbitant sums to go in and rebuild all the stuff we just got finished blowing up. Do y'all see how this cycle works? Is it clear to you now? Oh, and nothing we do is wrong, and no amount of hardship or torment we inflict upon you is illegal or will cause me, or anyone else from America, to have to go in front of the International Criminal Court in Den Haag, because, well, because whatever we do is right, and true, and necessary. Because we're the shining beacon on the hill, the one place on Earth that is allowed to punish and kill others for doing exactly what we do, what we have been doing, and what we will continue to do, without fear of retribution, or justice. And things are only going to get worse – with global climate change kicking into high gear, many of our homegrown corporations controlling much of the world's supply of potable water, and the desertification of various regions throughout Africa and the Middle East now causing waves of immigrants to flood north, into Europe, America's vast military might and relative geographic isolation will ensure our survival, or at least the survival of those Americans rich enough to buy and outfit land in the mountains of Alaska, where rising sea levels and warming temperatures won't affect them much, Americans well-connected enough not to be rounded up by our jackbooted and militarized police forces and sent to live out the rest of their pitiable lives starving in federal concentration camps already in place across these fifty States. So, yeah, we're sorry for all the bad stuff we did in the past, but that's nothing compared to what is coming. I've seen the plans, and I know just how truly shitty it's going to get for you all in the years to come. So buck up, you weak chumps, because you ain't seen nothing, yet.'

(This article is fiction; it should not be taken as a factual representation of the opinions of any member of the American government.)

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

dim-shadow koboldt

The dim-shadow koboldt is known for mischief for lifting a pocket or silk handkerchief. He waits at such crossroads as are poorly lit to pilfer and raid from a passerby's kit. He flits now from this now to that darkened spot and cannot be injured by curse or flung shot but always pops up again where least expected to abscond with things left too long unprotected. Fear not though ye wise ones who have sacrificed a coin or a flower or such modest tithe at one of the altars of kindly Vi'n'nya whose shelter is constant whose gaze travels far. Her white flowing robes will chase off ev'ry thief who wishes to make off with your's in his teeth but never do turn to catch of her a glimpse for hers is a countenance not made for wimps. The dim-shadow koboldt he knows this he does and would rather munch on cast-off linty fuzz than stand up and face her or look in her eye wherefore at her coming he to his lair flies. So next time you're traveling do stop a wink at one of her alters and there pause to think and lay down a small thing it's not much she needs to keep your path clear of those miscreant thieves.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

vapid and wild

From deep in our borders a strength does arise that against the forces of all darkness flies. It comes from the throats of man woman and child in warblings berserker shrill vapid and wild and sends many shivers down every spines of anyone who dares to cross o'er our lines. We stand independent from Ynki and Rus from enemies flagrant and those yet obtuse and ours is a mighty earth-shattering cry for we to the last man will throe fight and die. So heed ye this warning and meddle ye less in matters that are not your own business all foreign invaders much bent on empire who dare cross our sparsely-manned east or west wire. For we in Grigovia care for our own and want not for conflict that's financed or sown by shadowy figures from 'burg 'ville 'gorod who upon our sovereignty do seek to trod. We'll take in refugees from the Ynki wars and store them behind our own familys' doors but will not stand idly without due reply when cruel foreign devils our freedoms espy.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

call and chase

In high wooden timbers there live many creaks and they have been at it for thousands of weeks. They squeak and they shudder they won't go away they sound out their presence from night-time to day they aren't going nowhere so best never ponder from whence they did come from whence they did wander. To ease their shrill speakings best set out a plate of honey and water upon a heat-grate and watch as this mixture does soothe all their wants and lessen their burdens of their homely haunts. Or live with them peacefully hoping they'll call and chase away many a weak sickly pall for they have been known with their talking to ease most any a phlegm-filled rheumatic disease. Keep you right on creaking we welcome you here and laugh when you tickle and thrust at the ear you creaks in the attic you creaks on the stair – huzzah for all creakings most everywhere!

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

take the piss

The sprite her long fingers they do seldom miss yet all she doth want is for to take the piss. She'll take it from women and take it from men and then turn right back around and take it again. Her aim is to learn how to tell funny tales about foolish humans and elusive whales but all of her thieving has just been a waste that leaves a few yellow stains up on her face. She'll keep on piss-taking and struggling though the ways of us humans to study and know and hers is a turbulent and stinky wake as long as she's chasing that wily piss-take.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

pixies and tricksy

The miners were braver than most of the rest for they ev'ry day-round would give it their best. Despite many pixies and tricksy cobalt that labored their labors to hamper and fault the men in their hard-hats the men with their picks would pry precious morsels that in rock-veins stick. Then women came working to make up the balance when in our harsh wartimes were needed the talents of strong bulging muscles and engineer-wit to get our small nation back out of the shit. Then many young ladies did learn of the stuff that gives people rock-smart and elbow-grease guff and they left for fronts to our west and our east the horrors of combat to lessen and ease. They fought in the trenches and dug a few more and helped then win every subsequent war and mix with the laddies still unto this day when it's time for war-games to pick up and play.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

jawbones and ears

His name was John Rainbow he was a crack ace and always wore a vest always carried mace. His MO was simple – to shoot first then query to never think twice to leave up to chance every roll of the dice and his foul appearance was nothing but scary. He wore not a top-hat but a scarlet ribbon that screamed, “I am man-thing not baboon or gibbon” and kept many trophies of jawbones and ears and long was the toil of his warlike years. But then past his zenith he went into hiding yet always kept weapons dug into the siding and under his toilet and behind the stairs and had many manner of curious wares. From each of the countries he'd been to they came and were with the blood of his enemies stained and there in his trophy room sat the grand piece: the horns of a demon set in golden fleece. He'd wear it while hunting big game but not man for he had been shown a more peaceful-like plan that involved his cunning and all of his wits and henceforth he always made all of his hits. New trophies did stack up of chipmunk and rhino of bears black and bears brown and bears full albino but hunting men still was foremost in his mind so he left the civil life way far behind and went back to work in the gunslinging racket with only a small knife and his leather jacket. For ISIL Al-Qaeda and many such others he worked killed mothers sons daughters and others. IS didn't differ from his erstwhile bosses and he among madmen was once more Colossus.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

her blessed home

She stood in the clearing of a wooded glen and marveled at bush rock vine tree flower fen. Such colors did greet her as she'd never seen and shadows did dance there about in between the big soaring redwoods the small tiny sprouts and leap did her heart-beat and silently shout. She'd found it her homestead her small verdant vale and all of the others before it did pale and all of her wanderings then there bore fruit for her old worries were suddenly moot. With a few blows she quick secured her tent then to the task of a fire she bent safe in the confines of her blessed home far from the worries and burdens she'd known.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

honor to burn

Their clamor of squawking and anger did rise when they heard that she had cracked open her thighs. It was not their business to be so concerned or with their foul rumors her honor to burn or with their foul talking to tarnish her name but that was their boring, too-often-played game. So duly they gathered to spittle and heave and repeat the lies that they'd come to believe and question her virtue and puff themselves up and call her tramp hooker whore harlot and slut. They were a rank stupid and venomous bunch and on some cold hatred they'd happily lunch then take it back home and then vent it on they who in darkened pantries would hide everyday. One morning they gathered to hash out and spit all of their new stories and much old bullshit but then the young maiden whom they did despise came walking right to them and stared in their eyes. 'I love you all dearly,' she said with due calm to which they reacted with fear and alarm but she did continue with words soft and true and merely just stand there was all they could do. 'I've heard all the rumors you've spread about me and that you think I should just pick up and leave but I will not do that for I've not done wrong despite what you say to all who come along. I love you regardless and thank you for talking and will now keep going on my morning's walking and hope you will keep spinning your hateful tales of my fleshy weakness and my moral ails.' With that the young lady did venture away and done were the lies if only for that day – for hatred needs more than a few loving words for it to be flushed out with the other turds.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

local addict hooked on O2

Despite years of effort dedicated to breaking a lifelong addiction, unemployable local fiend Eroll T. Whitscomb remains hooked on oxygen. “I like inhaling it out here, in the open,” said the subject while standing and breathing deeply in a meadow not far from his home. “To me, it doesn't matter who or how many people tell me I need to quit – by now, my body really and truly needs it. God, once it hits your lungs, it's so good.” Mr. Whitscomb by no means struggles alone, said Dr. Alice R. Ushanginahi, head of addiction studies at the University of Southern Washington, U.S.A. “Every human being alive today is in some form or another addicted to oxygen. In fact, unless a person receives a dose of this chemical every two or three minutes, he or she will experience brain-death, and die.” Compared to food, or water, oxygen is apparently indispensable to a long and healthy life, and inhaling too little of it – due largely to bad posture – quickly causes the oxygen addict to become angry, impatient, and downright boorish. “We've studied countless cases in which individuals ruined social engagements and damaged interpersonal relationships just because their bodies weren't getting enough of the chemical upon which they'd allowed themselves to get hooked,” said Dr. Ushanginahi, who is herself addicted to the chemical. On the street, this drug is known as oh-too. “The most readily available and cheapest way to cure this addiction is, to my knowledge, suicide.” For more information about the addictive nature of oxygen – a free radical that damages the human body and speeds its decay by causing the iron molecules present in the bloodstream to rust – please visit www.urshitoutofluck.com or www.ifurbreathingurbelieving.com

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

to Cerberus's jaws

Aloof to the burden of thinking and thought he knew not the horror and sadness he'd wrought. Without ever asking for a by-your-leave he went steady forward sans hope of reprieve for all of the people whom he had abused lived off of sucked dry harried spat on and used. His path it was steady his step never strayed and naught but the urge of his greed he obeyed and naught but the need of his ego he knew which was a black cold sour and bloody stew. It wasn't 'til lying there on his death-bed that with a foreboding and a sense of dread he honored the fault and the wrong of his ways and wished he could go back to his younger days and speak to himself with tones soothing and true but there he lay dying and nothing could do. Therefore keep the ego as small as can be and turn to the timelessness of the life-tree and eat of her fruit-fall and drink of her sap and lay aside lust want and other such crap for all of one's actions do sound without pause from dear mother's womb-hold to Cerberus's jaws.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

vanish and cease

The miles ticked by and his muscles did hold and he would keep moving lest sweat made him cold. His steed was another's that he'd borrowed when his own mount was stolen from a downtown fen. The sun on his skin and the wind in his hair reminded this whorphan both sullied and fair that his was a path unlike most others take that his was a fortune and a name to make. With fleet wheels inflated and well-applied grease his troubles and worries did vanish and cease as he made his way from one side to the next of this vast wide beautiful bright metroplex.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

out a mew

A town in the making is well on its way where a mix of locals and refugees stay. We've planned all its contours to make it so that one can walk across in a half hour flat. There are but few roadways for a motor car, the rest they are made of stone pavers – not tar. The housing won't be more than four stories tall and gets much warm sunshine in winter and fall in the warmer months though it stays nice and cool and there are a number of small public pools. Such shops as one needs for to lead a good life sell foodstuff cloth hat shoe toothpaste soap and knife; they will accept barter or labor for goods will swap rice for garments or hand-tools for wood. To live there one must join a soviet crew to clean up a meadow or rake out a mew to maintain the sewage or help raise a barn to learn how to entertain with a spun yarn. A third of the people who'll live in this town escaped from such countries as war has torn down; two thirds are Grigovians gentle and kind who hold an humanity first in the mind. This is an experiment but we believe that with it we'll provide a welcome reprieve to people from within and those from without who have for too long yearned for such a redoubt. So come have a gander and do stay a while be ready to work and to wear a big smile for ours is a mixing pot crazy and real yet we all believe it's a pretty good deal.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

all any means

The Yaelong hold power their reach it is long their family systems are tight-meshed and strong. Long ago we'd quarrel o'er land and resources but quickly did learn to combine our small forces into some quick response and some quick action teams who crush all intruders by various means. Their guerrilla tactics we've much added to combining in lessons from Ho Chi Minh too and also from Mao and from Rommel to boot wherefore primed and ready is this armed offshoot. In truth though it makes up the bulk of our guard yet only emerges as a high trump card to mop up the damage done unto such fools who eschew good company's longstanding rules. From trench and from cupola alley and ditch with blood whipped up into a mad fever-pitch will every man woman child et ceterum stand up for to expel from home hearth and womb such Ynki Rus Kossak or Turkmeni brute who should dare on our precious soil set foot. Grigovian weapons and that Yaelong guile should help us keep hold on our freedom a while – for lest we get bombed out like the Nips once got there's nothing can move us from this awesome spot.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

approaching 7 figures

Los Angeles, CA 28 July 2015

Shirleigh Ratchthwana, former war-crimes prosecutor and current head of Public Relations for the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), denounced today the destruction of priceless cultural artifacts within a stone's throw of the museum's main entrance. “We regularly watch as groups of vandals deputized to their duty by the City of Los Angles (City) strip layers of art from our town's various walls, sign-posts, and switching boxes – daily and without relent. Examples of this art include stickers en collage or solo, pasted-up paper pieces, and those that are sprayed-on. By its actions and those of its deputies, City demonstrates an alarming lack of appreciation for such art as it presides over, regardless if that art should hang in a gallery or on a street corner.” Art that happens to be located in public, or street art, is created by daring and talented individuals who risk fines and abuse if caught in the act of application. Pieces by the most famous modern graffitos can fetch sums approaching 7 figures. Fundamentally human in its chaotic and spontaneous nature, street art – graffiti – is one of mankind's oldest documented yet least hallowed forms of artistic expression. Whether in the walls of Teotihuacan and Giza or the ruins of Stonehenge and Sumer, the scratches and scribbles of a million faceless graffiti-writers bridge the gaps of time.

“We stand now witness to a great extinction,” said Dr. Horatio B. Gherrt, professor of art history at Harvard's Schoullenbarg School for Contemporary Art. “This extinction, however, this mass die-off, is not of beast but of beauty, not of aardvark or antelope but of art itself. A solitary artist working by herself would take months – even years, or never – to create such pieces of perfectly blended chaos, such though-evoking combinations of logo, typeface, cultural icon, and slogan – old and new, obscure and obvious, crude and tender. Yet such collages spring into being on otherwise unadorned and publicly-accessible spaces virtually overnight and completely free of charge to the city, which then expends resources to scrape them down or cover them in dull, gray paint.”

With municipalities across the world continuing to criminalize the application of street art and refusing to recognize its value and beauty, the future still looks bleak for artists who follow the ancient human urge to mark their passage with note or scrawl (but without a by-your-leave). “So long as there are people, there will be graffiti,” said Ms. Ratchthwana. “Instead of simply destroying things they don't understand, we hope that City leaders will soon treat street art as they would treat a Van Gogh painting or Ming-era vase – as part and parcel of mankind's cherished cultural legacy, something that deserves to be protected.” City declined to comment for this article.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

quick magical slide

Uncanny and welcoming hectic and vast is road-grid and heart of this city of class. Los Angeles friendo is where it is at where fortunes can change at the drop of a hat where a simple gesture can upset the tides and time does a fluid quick magical slide. Its highways and ocean its palm trees and dust its holy points one time to visit one must and bow to the fault-lines deep down and above that threaten with shaking yet embrace with love. It's fine to be back but there's not much left here that I haven't witnessed before through the years so where does that leave one who roams far and wide? To find within truth and to find it inside...

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

in this spot

Our ruins are open to visit this week – come by for a glimpse and come by for a peek. With houses aplenty both restored and not you'll learn how our ancestors lived in this spot and lived without waste want or much luxury and lived so much simpler than you or than me. In stone water-channels they brought in their drink with others they led away waste-water's stink and erected stout walls to keep foes at bay and erected store rooms for grain and for hay. They had more than one cult and one ritual indeed many of them did not pray at all yet lived out their in peaceful co-living that was one of sharing and kindness and giving. No house was much larger than the one next door and most of them had but a single ground-floor but some of them boasted a bin in the roof for making food storage both rain- and rat-proof. There's tons more to learn here in this our town so stop for a visit if you are around and sample the recipies used way back when – we're sure you will come back again and again.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

Berber of birth

There's told of a wanderer Berber of birth who came to Grigovia spreading his mirth. He also spread Islam that still lives today but which we here practice in much our own way without dire enforcement of too many rules while still making use of its fine social tools. Yibin al Ba'huttah was the wise man's name, from far to the West of the sunset he came to share bizarre stories of lands set in snow and that place to which Muslim faithful must go. His goal was an empire far from our own (which he did call Qinku'ha) to make there his home and serve as a minister under its king and share with him ritual knowledge and teaching. If he ever made it we now do not know but were much heartbroken to then see him go in search of warm climates and fortune and glory that man who so brashly wrote his own life-story.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

wraiths are dumb

The wraith said not sorry and said not goodbye but fled through a crack in the roof of the sty and made like the dickens for its yonder grave and set its mind working like wood on a lathe. Its plans they were finished in one minute flat for it could not ponder much longer than that and fled back outside its old master to seek in a shadowed tree and by a muddy creek. Its master it found not and soon did not know just why it had ventured out over the snow to float through a landscape it no longer knew but oh well those wraiths are dumb – what can one do?

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

find happiness with

To celebrate victory in Ynkiland we break out the bubbly and strike up the band. For too long have all people there in the place lived under the jackboot of hatred for race and hatred for they who prefer the same sex – after this achievement what shall follow next? Will people of darker skin-tones than some others be treated as neighbors as sisters and brothers or will they still be sent to rot in dark cells in cruel private prisons in tightly-cramped hells? We ended our drug war in 1980 and now treat our addicts compassionately and now all our people all Grigovians can make up their own weekend drug-using plans without undue concern their doors will be smashed by mummified officers angry and brash. Huzzah for the homos – a battle they've won – and can now get married to most anyone who agrees to find joy and find happiness with other vagina with other penis. We'd made legal and normal long long ago the tendency of some of us to 'homo' indeed we passed laws back in 1905 that has kept selfsame-love healthy and alive. Well done then, Americans, but do not rest for this is the first of just many more tests to see if you can join the ranks of such nations that choose to make not war but love-celebrations.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

an hypnotic daze

The swell of the century does sound its call and all of us surfers come hither enthralled to stare at the beauty of the pounding waves to dare to wade out in an hypnotic daze. This isn't a lie here it's not a tall tale about those Grigovian high-mountain vales so please do just skip this one, give me a pass, forgive my glaring and base lack of class. The surfboard is mounted the gas-tank is full and such is the majestic incessant pull of those big-old breakers there pounding the sand that I will now bring this here piece to an end.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

plenty of ten

A garrisoned plenty of ten to fifth men does overwatch city and mountain and fen. Its weapons are wily its purpose is clear – to guard us from enemies foreign and near. Its symbols are ancient its rites they are true its colors are ocher green and a light blue for all such harm-seekers it does lie in wait from bright early morning to dark even late. Now join you this plenty now pledge you thine arm to keep from Grigovia threat worry harm to protect the homeland and keep us all free – huzzah for the Plenty of Ten and Fifty.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

our cities dense

To make ourselves ready for the coming storms has our central government enacted norms to sharpen Grigovians' due self-defense from single farm-havens to our cities dense. We must stand together to counter the drive of corporate powers who consume alive both nations and regions nay entire lands and back up with arms their capitalist plans. The ore in the soil the fish in the sea belong to all peoples to you him and me and shall not be used up to make a few rich and shall not be stolen by some greedy bitch. For next they'll steal sunlight and oxygen too and charge us for using both voice and mind too and squeeze us of life-force and enslave our kin unless we bind together to conquer these men. Too long has this people lived freely anon to now just retreat before battle is won wherefore we now rise up and duly proclaim: Our land is our business say you no more or tempt us to sell ourselves like we were whores or get us to give up our long-standing claim to life free of cruel and imperial stains; For we as a people will not just lie flat and give what is ours to men already fat – we'll gladly share with anyone who's in need but will not engender to support the greed of they who've big houses in many a land who kneel to the Ynki and his evil plans; So leave now these borders and come you no more and dare not to darken the jam of this door for we are quite happy to live out our lives like any old normal and regular guys; So take your grand scheming and scurry away and do not awaken this dragon today and test not our iron cold and proven will lest you your own life-blood are willing to spill.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

distant and far

All else being equal the balance they sought was by hidden perils both hampered and fraught. A mountain of mischief stood there in their path and deep was the impending terrible wrath of all of the agencies that they had spurned who then had to rebuild the bridges they'd burned. So hated and despised was this tiny group that it could not hope any costs to recoup and therefore decided to just up and leave and seek somewhere else its long-sought-for reprieve. It found shelter and many welcoming arms in our fine Grigovian houses and farms where they then lived simply and without worry and let their dear children explore in the trees. The homes that they found here have been proven strong which most of us knew from the start all along and now our dear brothers and sisters they are who came from a dark land both distant and far.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

friend patron kin

She'd left in a steamer off to the Far East where one of her aunts a plantation had leased. Upon her arrival there in that far place did she get a healthy and quite sudden taste of life in a country where she'd never been where she'd few connections to friend patron kin. As soon as her feet set down on that dark soil there was a sharp outcry from all those who toiled but were not well paid for their labors or time whereupon they rioted in their work-lines. The young lass did hurry away from the port as soon as she heard the rifle's sharp retort and witnessed the marching of colony troops whose bayonets glinted as did their black boots. She fled through the city and into a slum and was there more foreign than most anyone except for an old crone who savvied her plight and gave her somewhere to bed down for the night. The next day the city lay sorely abused while still brightly smoldered the stevedores' fuse and our pretty heroine soon understood that things in that colony were less than good. On reaching her relatives she was well met and told them no longer to worry or fret and told them she'd be heading back into town to help and assist they whose friendship she'd found. She'd then soon established a home for the sick and endured some beatings with long bamboo-sticks for her brash involvement in worker affairs by old and fat white men both baffled and scared that there was a Western girl out in the heat whose actions and rhetoric them would unseat. The workers won finally a few cents more and steeled themselves to head to battle once more and win Independence from their foreign masters and call themselves free men happily e'er after.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

non-royal fam

The house of our abdicant non-royal fam is focused on helping build shelters and dams not increasing riches or waltzing about while kids in this world still go to sleep without. They live in apartments quite modest in size like any old cluster of regular guys like any old troupe gang army murder clan from this side of Nowhere to Afghanistan. We thank them for staying here within our fen and taking our cause up again and again and fighting for us here in Grigovia for arbor vox populi et patria. All their fine castles now house works of art and all of their efforts do twinge at the heart and buoy the spirit and make the hairs rise so lift up those features and open those eyes; tomorrow is a myth as is yesterday and all of one's life is just now and today.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥

noble and staid

With all the grains planted and growing anon the goddess of Springtime felt her labors done. Retiring her now-empty cornucopia she fled back to her peak high o'er Grigovia and sat there to look down as babe and wheat sprouted and all of mankind her great skillfulness touted. She had but a week or two (in Goddess Time) to rest her bones and drink some flagons of wine before she'd fly back to the Earth-Plains of Man to watch over new lives that in Fall began. She sat therefore silent and still as a rock her mouth it did but breathe and seldom did talk until it was her time to head off again back down to the rolling and now-verdant fen. Her course can be seen by us mortals below who look at the heavens when falling stars show the glinting of her long and golden white hair as she quick descends from that tall Heaven's Stair. We welcome her coming give thanks her for aid and honor her countenance noble and staid and build her an altar of twig and flower at each all and every new-baby shower.

​© americanifesto / 場黑麥