Transaction is all we do, no greater or less than colonies of the ant world set against one another in daily clusters, controlled because we have been made to lose our minds from transmissions from your fillings to the sliver chips. Subtle under your skin, cameras upon corners and in rural hedgerows. But god forbid the toilet. One never knows demonstrations why so many unarmed screamers shouting into space whilst agent provocateurs laugh from parliamentary windows by the river Thames. So called democracy now becoming dictatorial overload, everybody assuming rights but right over what and applicable to whom, we are now no more than animals on a world farm though a slightly more sophisticated visual energy form.
