Mind of Mansel: Tribal Sufferings on American Highways

Bleak understandings as the country spirals off camera. The sermon hasn't been heard and the traffic camera that caught the beheading transferred the image to the hovering news helicopter by mistake and the family of the victim is now doing public service two mile markers down for smashing the front door of the station.

They found out by changing the channel moments after the news crew burst into their small apartment. Strange enough to be true, horrific.

Campaign donors disguised as pederasts are moving through the lobbies of the some of the finest hotels in our country. Their influence can be utilized by both parties and the controling interest is transferred through newsprint in passable spanish.

The kitchen staff of any Hilton Hotel on the east coast of america in the sixties and seventies could name for you any underage starlet who moved through the steam of vegetables and noodles to the arms of donors and politicians. It would always be on a reserved floor, the button you couldn't push because the elevator operator, a tired and jaded African-American who had seen it and heard it wouldn't allow you to under threat of subpoena or violence.

The largest expose of our times has still not been written. The dark paths cut across the streets, highways and yards of New Hampshire for the last fifty years in this time of information. One can imagine databases on every resident of New Hampshire auctioned off every four years for the price of first born. Places like Sugar Grove in West Virginia who listen to every phone call in America and every email and blog entry like this one house individuals that if they were to ever truly speak on the record would certianly be admitting to highs crimes against humanity.

The watch fiends of this new century are spoiled like jackels at a Revelation book signing in the Cambodian jungle. Fear emanates from these narrow passages and our childrens children will lie across the ditches of hell to keep the peace while the jackels nip at their heels. Our only hope is to move to the country and give them the cities.

- Chris Mansel