Even if "them" Bun's version just another dimension provin' you can build all the cathedrals and so called Christendom and fill it full of penguin-suited, stuckup straights never mind all the bling in Their rather fey, empire of dust to borrow from another moanin' self pityin' junkie...
(no i did NOT hahh hahhh)
"them" poor Sourcines.... could never understand: that actual art that causes actual change and officially one of the most 'subversive' dances on THE "Tightrope" of all that's "human" usually does come from the most warped and regressive so called Institutions of all....
And if "them" Chelterladies could actually let go and dollop out their real selves all the way, they would be richer than the Cresus they still bob around like Magpies... bein' jealous of (or reserving the right to maybe one day have the same fancy car as which is indeed what it's all really about..)
But sanctity, was only ever one thing:
even if the ferksquirts removed for some reason the full record of the best of all versions...
That i know was predictin' with actual real shamaniacal second sight that a time would arise around the time of the hollowcast....
when the phenotype no longer was extant.
of a womantoo
Whom with no fuss no showing off, not making any thing of what is merely a time immemorial necessitant...who .can put the tools away in lovely organised sane and rationalised methodical regions always afterjob.... no matter what..
I mean if you are probably the greatest fiddler of all time first equal with Scarlet oops nearly forgot showing my Miss Ohh Jenny creds (so entertainingly the fancy pants fiddlers gathered for show
on Wentes Meadow post their pandemique 21 didnt seem to know of ...either.. said ither)
Then you are allowed to break the odd tool of your trade by exerting actual artistic passion in three dimensions..
but think ahead.... set up the job FIRST.... as all hobbies are mere jobs, big or small.... have a box back home of part-bust fiddles, NEXT to the nicely labelled box in thick felt tip of part-worn bows and on a sliding scale along the shelves, to really worn bows, and beyond hope bows and then strings snapped short beyond all hope unless ukuleles suddenly inexplicably become fashionable and thus they could be repurposed on an instrument smaller than 'normal' (i think that sums up the small mindedness of the last fifteen years as i recall when i saw my first)
'twas impossible.....
Until.....
