Something deplorable is about to happen-- we can no longer stop the ranks of housebroken infidels from migrating into the wild they have never encountered beyond photo and film.
It's coming out! The stampede of hairy-legged pheromones we could once browbeat into prepubescent shame with the speed of a smack upon the tender noggin!
It takes courage to enjoy the canned campfire stories we passed off as ageless doctrine.
How they once recoiled, squirming like slugs thrown in a salt mine!
Now the writhing is self-inflicted, the sweat off their brows no longer cold, damp beads but now welcome lubrication that slithers down their lecherous masses of flesh!
Despite our most dogmatic toiling, the iron shroud has revealed itself as a featherweight curtain within a few tugs.
Anyone else feel the walls shake to and fro? Why does the water in that glass ripple so? Has it arrived already? The end of our reign as dictators of the prevailing value system?
Fetch thee the community smelling salts! Too late! The young and vulnerable have already begun to trample! Push the powder out of your wigs to blind yourself from the carnage!
*The Age of Inhibition has screeched and skidded into its evil twin's Renaissance. Big time sensuality has straddled the saddle, too busy racing avenues to declare victory.
The haughty, absurdly strict "antagonists" respond to Bjork's coming of age in "Big Time Sensuality"