People tramp concrete, wandering the city. People on side streets thoughts like confetti. People unfinished, only half born. People diminished, little dwarf form. Trap spiders scent them, wait for the grab. Cult robots wrap them up in their web. Praise "Bob" and Connie with severing blades. Their eyes are stunning their hands unstained. Always cry waken. Open your eyes. You're not mistaken: you used to be flies! Entheta the triumph of entheta where the only "follow the leader" is following the light inside Enturbulating, the org's afraid of our Enturbulating The org's sheep are bleating and the wolf calls them inside to the meat hooks inside to the meat hooks inside to the meat hooks you'll ride remember what it was like alive? They're fearful of questions that shake the sheep's pen. Questions may send them out into the open. The frightening open where freedom is terror. They're used to groping. The org is so much safer. Ron's books are so many and so elaborate. To keep scared minds busy some traps are intricate. Just a lot of made up, Just a lot of made up Just a lot of made up shit Just a lot of made up, Just a lot of made up Just a lot of made up shit