when dealing with those who have an operation on you there is a necessary 'I am a lamb' bit that you do if you want them to not succeed as well if they could succeed.
whatever the most normal and logical explanation of anything is, you always explain with that, an no further detail.
if you are in a hurry, well you need to go to the bathroom. If you are worried, it's a realitive you know who is sick. they will try and explain it all as your failure. You must just point them back to the ordinary.
the can sense you've crossed throgugh into their poison realm. Youve been noggen concked in a spiritual jolt and put into the worlds of nether, the midnight highway, and all day car ride to nowhere.
but it's all just part of the ordinary and everyday, and they must thin that is how you see it.
if you drank the kook-water, if you chewed on the tiny purple crayon tasting gew that some stranger gave you.
the first thing they do is talk about 'kcabalism' pretend you think they mean cable television and stear it to somewhere else.
you park your rig along some other distant highway. They all want to know what road you are on, how you feel about it? You roll on through the night and make it home in time for another day of rest, and make back into the everyday, outside of the hazing of their pathethic 'make you' 'summurize your depratity' smear you with their 'nothin butter' all over your face and hands.
Ok, cool time for a shower and nap, maybe not in that order.
I'll wake up by some wonderful gushing stream and the birds will be forgeing for grubs along the clean shores, where the water plants are too thick to easily walk in it, where is the foot fall, you could end up in quick sand.
there's a strange sound, it's some kind of mating call?
It's two AM in some far off place and you were asleep again! by the side of the highway. you woke up from what you thought was the sound of a blow horn. But it was merely in the dream.
you pop back up and put the keys back in and start it up and roll on through the night, and into the next morning.
Alex Jones can talk away in the muck and mire.
draw us off to our doom? He'll be the knight in david armor laying down his coat so that the women down't get their fancy shoes muddy?