Vehiculum omniscopus takes the hos for a ride and says “I got you in the car” and the ghosts of lessons past grab on the rear where they prefer to struggle, locked up in the boot. And so the “I got you! I got you in the car!” becomes the mantra of the nation, the rapist generation. So aim those lasers at the sky and fire away. There are no ghosts stalking space. But are there lasers in this? In the moment that white van pulls up and the stick of candy proffered up, could you refuse? Could you just wake up? Those industrial cocks grow so rock hard for you and trump your vintage/anal oscillator(s). So aim those lasers at the sky and fire away. There are no ghosts stalking space. It’s only mud and rocks and shit and that’s it.