Bells chiming, again and once again, the cry poised to thoughtfully remind the complacent masses that today is Sunday, salvation's tithes are due. The wolves howl vicious at the moon, the stars, the land, and its people, bearing bloodied fangs while heralding a world of gold and pearls, yet the only glimpse of heaven's wealth seen through the keyhole of the lair's ivory phallus (for a dollar you can take a look). The guilt of mankind lays prey to Canis' fiery stare, vengeful and rabid, hatred tossed wildly about like tiny bubbles of rancid spit. Bells chiming, again and once again. "Submit yourselves, and you will know that independence is sin, knowledge evil, and life merely a preparation for an invested death."
Back to The August 1995 Issue Table of Contents
Back to the Scroll
Updated Thursday, 04-Mar-2004 14:58:32 PST