I DO NOT FIGHT PIGMENT! I spread it over and through my brushes, or across my cheekbones, or I crush it in my palms, drag it across the cement, spray it on a canvas, splash it over a wall. But my beef is not with color, and certainly not the color of skin. An introduction, and the long-awaited second edition of the Nez-Patented Wite-Magik Attax.
WE IMAGINED THE TELESCREEN and got the Essence right. But the Symbol we did not. We didn’t see that we’d not have them as TVs, but as computers. And we imagined them bolted down. And we never imagined they wouldn’t be mandatory, but sought after as prizes and status symbols. And we didn’t imagine we’d not try to slip out of their sightline, as Winston did, but that we would strip down naked and dance in front of them at nearly every opportunity.
SO HOW LONG our own bloody transition? And without a goal. And rife with lies. And the priests do not join with the people do not join with the warriors today. We are all at odds, enjoined by lies. And blood flows in many lands at the hands of our warriors—who know not even why or for what they fight. And we hide their rituals from the people. And replace them with lies.
House of Nezua
the XOLAGRAFIK theater!
