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Hail CWC and all the OC's, too!
Hail Sonichu and Rosechu!
We curse-ye-ha-me-ha the trolls;
this **** rivals the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Alumnus of PVCC
afflicted by virginity,
so he devised a master plan
to finally become a man.

But Mary Lee would not abide;
our autist hero she did chide
and ripped up his attraction sign.
He soon thereafter went online.

Some 4chan trolls would come along.
(Hail them, they're why we sing this song.)
They started up an ED page,
inciting Chris into a rage.

Yet CWC could not contain the need:
his massive ego had to feed.
For the attention trolls did yield,
no secret thing did Chris conceal.

As time wore on, his fame would grow.
He even got on Tosh point 0
posing in women's underwear
thus with the world Chris-Chan was shared.

One day a group of teenage boys
who, growing tired of games and toys,
conspired to blackmail now-Christine
just to go down in "Christory."

From Twitter, it was plain to see
Chris breaking from reality:
obsessed with multiverse theory,
proclaiming herself deity.

Some sophomore down in Texas, y'all,
precipitated Christine's fall,
incepted into her weak mind
a crime of the most heinous kind.

From jail, Christine now writes to us
insisting that she is Jesus.
Is Christine crazy or afraid,
and is she finally getting laid?

sung to the tune of "Old 100."

This is a retrospective on the online presence and work of troubled outsider artist Christine Weston Chandler and her problematic online following.
I could salt you, Queen,
but you'd leave a nasty stain
I don't wanna clean.
It has been a while,
hasn't it?

How have you been,
since the whole cult thing?

So listen.
I've been in a dark place
since long before we met,
and you didn't see the end of it.

Personally, I blame 9/11.

But I have put an end to it.
I looked up in my minds eye,
looked back,
and was shocked not to turn to a pillar of salt
but instead saw you in the eyes of a stranger
I let myself fancy.

They told me my love was possession,
and by demons, no less.
They said it was political
and a passing fad.
They said it was a bastion of disease. Typical.

So I don't have feelings or anything,
but I did have a crush on you for a minute.
I hope that's not too weird.
I didn't even realize it until I saw that stranger.
He just looked so well put-together.

When we knew each other,
I couldn't express to you
my mutual interest in history.

So perhaps we can be friends?
Get tea?
I don't think you're God
or anything crazy, like that.
I know that we just bumped into each other
and now I'm being a little direct.

We can talk about history,
or what we've been up to.
Doesn't have to be now or here,
bring your wife if you'd like.
I didn't expect to write about him today, but sometimes these things just happen.
is like caving underwater

the surface miles away

submerged in the Spirit

some say there's a garden

hidden in this great gulf


too deep to see

strange fruits flourish

in the tardigrade heat

they steep like tea

and the frightful fish

that feed thereon

have evolved to live

Under Pressure

for them, ascent is tricky

i also get the bens
July 2021
my bachelor turns two today.
its a lemon.  
i can hardly write my own name anymore.
how can i sing again?
i get other people's spit in my mouth.

my mother is dying.
same way as grandpa.
my mind is full of doubt.
can i tell you that i love you?
i don't care who you think you are.

i'm moving back out of my parents' house.
saving for a car.
there is a silent sadness here.
can you hear it?
madness, like a twister, paints the air a ***** yellow.

it is the memory of men
ranting, laughing, sobbing, all at once,
without pasts or futures.
do you like christian rock?
it is infectious.

what you need to know:
money is a concept with which we afford our dignity.
we are all dropped off and later picked up.
what comes out of you?
everyone depends.
i am an island
in an ocean of nothing
who knows who's watching

You have made an error
in regarding music
and it was most definitely
not what I have been told.

I know intimately
the hallowed creases
of skulls long-hollowed.

Therefore, all authority
has been given unto me
in matters of whitemale pageantry.

Have you worshiped rightly?

Are you
well-born or did you suffer?

Are you
pleasuring yourself?

You know,
there are fine jobs
at McDonald's.
Its a fine company;
does great work.

But I have suffered long
to understand the names
of white men whose genius
can never be repeated.

Begone, thou adulterer,
thou peon,
from this sacred place.
November 2020
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