.and i thought that only Metallica took back their mojo from the current musical oblivion... but it seems... the Prodigy did likewise with their new No Tourists album...

i'll be honest... English humor?
bewildering...
               just odd...
                      black satire,
or out-in-the-field plain heap of
ridicule...
        German? humor?
                       what? i thought
the Germans were pure logos
and absolutely no pathos...
   wait... oh... right...
schadenfreude... and irony...
but back east?
                 the Polacks have their
own version of humor...
it's primarily self-deprecating...
the older the ******,
the more they joke that Poland is
the Cinderella of Europe...
    what with the mild non-existent
hiccup due to democratic monarchism
of the aristocrats,
who... well...
   let's just they had their patron "saint"...
Konrad I of Masovia...
who... in attempts to conquer
the Prussians... invited the Teutonic Order
to aid him...
        and obviously the Teutonic
Order, outstayed their helpful hand
culminating in the battle of
Grunwald (which in the east is like
the battle of Hastings)...
yes yes, the dates...
  but Rome didn't make it to these lands...
i used to live about half an hour's
bicycle ride from a flint-stone
      mining community...
  sure... you can have your genesis monkey...
i have a flint-stone mining community...
now i get American humor...
    why?
                its pompous...
and there's nothing intelligent about it...
well...
  who the hell needs intelligent
comedy?
                      i don't want to think:
and then chuckle...
               i want to chuckle prior to
whatever impetus to think about
having laughed is left.

- and then the financial crisis begins,
in whatever year it was,
2007 or 2008...
       just like with the raiding heretical
Sunni Muslims who seem
to not understand the ideology of
jihad: a holy war,
yes... but to reclaim conquered lands
formerly in the possession
of Muslims...
this... this is the second tier of
expansionism, right?
but jihad is a type of warfare
to reclaim lost lands...
sorry... i'm not about to become
a clone...
    ah... wait a minute...
i figured how someone like
   Joel Osteen can speak so persuasively,
the whole point of his sophistry is...
well... just read one book...
and reread it like... countless times...
i must be scatter-brain by now,
reading the number of books i've read...
if i only read one book...
oh hell yeah... my confidence wouldn't
falter, not even once...
   i'd be like the equivalent
of a cardiologist: specializing in
all things heart related...
         point being...
the financial crisis didn't really
affect Poland...
    and this whole Hijab Party
central?
                             i might be a mere
citizen... but my heart is
entombed in the people...
            once criticism though...
  why the **** did you have to bury
leszko kaczyński on the Wawel Mount?
why not in Warsaw Wileńska,
where the presidents are buried...
hell... closer to the Belweder Palace
to boot...
       so... we're moving the capital
back to Krakow?
if i had the time, and money...
i'd seriously think about the noumenon
of how a certain part of Poland
was not affected by the bubonic plague
in 1347...
                 or Islam circa 2005.

Culture Vultures dining on carcasses,
a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
or both no vote only the onset of mainstream socialist monarchism,
a subconscious stream of consciousness consumed by a constantly contradicting condition of consumerism,
an avalanche of retail therapy and the avant of avant-gardism,
doesn’t have to be a better product or improved edition,
just has to be better packaged and marketed,
sold our souls so we don’t own anything anymore not even our own cognizance,
just look what what the mass media market did,

our collective memories and ancient traditions all but forgotten,
designer jeans symbolize a degenerative disease like Parkinson’s,
want to end this madness but don’t know who started it,
so who can we blame but ourselves in all honestness,
as we absorb Virtual Reality and ignore Actual Reality creating an occultism of Oculus,
Rift we drift into thee abyss of dark indifferences…

Neglecting the blueprint everybody’s a studio gangsta these days just ask 50 Cent,
morally bankrupt lazy played daisies try to copy Jay-Z’s blueprint,
but no body has a DJ Clue or a Ty Dollar to spare still everyone’s got their two cents,
all opinions given with no wisdom taken from the Grand Architect,
what good is good advice if we don’t take the time to listen we just dismiss it quick,
showing off trophies donating charity checks,
acting like champions we bare and beat our chest,
wearing fool’s gold and blood diamonds but we’ve won nothing yet,
honestly feels like we haven’t even started yet,
still we feel exhausted from this rat race for dominance,
slaves of an alien race we pledge allegiance with our obedience and faux pas ambiance,

And it’s all almost over for our entire empire so every moment better cherish it,
white robes with Chipko flip flops we hold the reins to Her Majesty’s chariot,
whipping the 500 horses faster in the fast lane will get you buried quick,
so I try and pace it and not get too wasted still I feel very sick,
when captain screams “You move too slow sailor!”, that’a when it’s time to depart this ship,
but you can’t rush good art and I’m an articulating artist for all the artisans,
in a constant state of affairs is why I haven’t married yet,

which of course means no divorce from any or all of this,
so I continue to translate transmissions without prejudice,
love is star crossed colorblind and my wonder mind is in wonderland’s luminescence,
as I illustrate illustrious illuminations off every edifice in this hedonistic eden like Edison,
with an ample amount of ambiance this is this rebels renegade Renaissance,
I write light before I become just another martyr for the Martian’s master plans,
my words are honest sonnets on tablets of mono-cultured monograms,
mono-glyphs that shine like a beacon on the Tower of Babel atop a cavernous monolith…

This is all honest in all honestness.

Here at the docks with assorted Goddesses and narcissistic walruses,
way up down under not trying to be negative but the only thing I’m positive of is,

we are cultivating a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
so stay up and keep your eyes open because the games have just started kid.

This is all honest kid.

And I’m open to discuss everything except religion and of course politics,
so if you’re having issues then tell me what the problem is and maybe we can solve it quick,
and please don’t blame the Dalai Lama or Obama’s broken promises,
see we all have soiled wings just like these vultures that pick at our carcasses,
as we dine on Soylent Green served hot from the meting *** of concubine colleges,
wrong right black white day night see everything has it’s opposites,
so even the kindest animals will turn into carnivorous cannibals when all that’s left,
is blown kisses well wishes ***** dishes corrupt princes and spiritual paralysis,
this is the age of the dawning of Aquarius and the end of our passing genesis…

But what do I know I’m just a Son of a Gun on the run writing this mystic futuristic hit-list,
dressed to the nines with a bottle of moonshine and a bunch of empty cartridges,
in the Wild West with Clint Eastwood clean as a whistle mixin’ with ***** Harry’s pharmacist,
The Good Bad & The Ugly drink in acid rain and eat magic cactuses…

Howling at the full moon with peyote coyotes absent minded off the absinth mix…

Alive right here left for dead insane and out of practice with,
no clean water in the canteen and circling are the vultures just above us,
this teenage wasteland has no purpose with,
riff raft rats and religious rabbits in the crosshairs with deserted desert tortoises,
see these badlands will make the most professional professionals seem like just silly naive novices,
there’s nothing more to see here in this mirage except my rusty gun as it tarnishes…

my visions getting blurry bodies stopped but my mind’s still hurried this is what exhausted is,
and I’d escape if I knew a way out but instead I stay because I’m not sure what my other option is…

See I knew I would go I told you before everyone is targeted,
so soon it seems I’ll be just another rotting carcass that,
the Culture Vultures overhead dine on as their dinner when feeling peckishish,
terminated no terminator but like Arnold said, “I’ll be back.”, like I just started this…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Worldwide Bestselling Poet

It's that time of year
Right after the buckets of cheer
Resolutions to lose waste
After you just stuffed your face
And then you'll shed a tear
Cause you can't finish a race

Oh I know, this year I want good luck
Why don't you stop for a good ****
Get you out of this conservatism
And in to anarchism
Get out of this rut and muck
It's like politics in a monarchism

Oh this year I'll be different
No this year you end with repent
Just like the last
Stuck in the past
You could be a parent
Or end up being chaste

Oh I want to focus on relationship
Congrats, you got kissed on the lip
At midnight
Let's set sight
Don't throw a fit
Let's hang tight

There is no "new year new you"

You can change
Just don't rely on your calendar
to do it for you

environmentalism/nauturism/animism, latitudinarianism, cancerism, corporatism/corporativism, bureaucratism, governmentalism, devilism/satanism/diabolism/demonism, nudism, feudalism/serfism, universalism, conceptualism, defeatism, filibusterism, groupism, globalism, collectivism, centralism, communalism, internationalism, mercantilism/Americanism, utopianism, Illuminism, Fabianism, totalitarianism, mobbism/gangsterism, militaryism/militarism/ warlordism, imperialism, liberalism, statism/ stateism, fascism, authoritarianism, hucksterism, botulism, priapism, polydactylism, Mormonism, evolutionism/Darwinism/Lamarckism, dereism, ******/Naziism, Marxism, Bolshevism, Owenism, maturism, czarism/tsarism, eugenism, tokenism, albinism, pauperism, subversivism, battarism, Caesarism, Hitlerism, Rooseveltism, Leninism, Slavophilism/Slavism, Sovietism, Stalinism, Trotskyism, Titoism, Malthusianism/Neo-Malthusianism, mysticism, monarchism, regicidism, sciolism, socialism, Maoism, communism, absolutism, poplarism, Cahenlyism, Pollyannaism/Pollyannism, pedestrianism, homosexualism/lesbianism/sapphism, voyeurism, cultism/occultism, sectionalism, unicism, cronyism, mentalism, elitism, Hegelism/Hegelianism, fatalism, humanism/humanitarianism/existentialism, popeism, transvestism, Occamism/Ockhamism/nominalism, nihilism, neoterism, nephalism, Negroism, Neptunism, scientism, euphemerism, minimalism, alarmism, favoritism, rheumatism, infantilism, miserabilism, hoydenism, physicism, toadyism, rowdyism, aristocratism, loyalism, rightism/leftism, Mongolism, sadism/ masochism, plebeianism/plebianism, polyphalangism, simplism, quixotism, recidivism, selfism, alcoholism, synorchism/synorchidism, esoterism/esotericism, revisionism, hedonism, plagiarism, sophism, Indianism, Parkinsonism, timonism/Aristotelianism, barbarism, mercurialism, deism, narcissism, fetishism/fetichism, hypocorticalism, mitralism, bossism, ethnocentrism, multiculturalism, hierarchism, polygenism, mutacism/mytacism, narcotism/narcoticism, hermaphrodism/hermaphroditism, hylopathism, hyperadrenalism, catadicrotism, entorganism, invalidism, vampirism, ergotism, prostatism, hepatism & nepotism.

Son of A Gun in The Wild West

Culture Vultures dining on carcasses,
a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
or both no vote only the onset of mainstream socialist monarchism,
a subconscious stream of consciousness consumed by a constantly contradicting condition of consumerism,
an avalanche of retail therapy and the avant of avant-gardism,
doesn’t have to be a better product or improved edition,
just has to be better packaged and marketed,
sold our souls so we don’t own anything anymore not even our own cognizance,
just look what what the mass media market did,

our collective memories and ancient traditions all but forgotten,
designer jeans symbolize a degenerative disease like Parkinson’s,
want to end this madness but don’t know who started it,
so who can we blame but ourselves in all honestness,
as we absorb Virtual Reality and ignore Actual Reality creating an occultism of Oculus,
Rift we drift into thee abyss of dark indifferences…

Neglecting the blueprint everybody’s a studio gangsta these days just ask 50 Cent,
morally bankrupt lazy played daisies try to copy Jay-Z’s blueprint,
but no body has a DJ Clue or a Ty Dollar to spare still everyone’s got their two cents,
all opinions given with no wisdom taken from the Grand Architect,
what good is good advice if we don’t take the time to listen we just dismiss it quick,
showing off trophies donating charity checks,
acting like champions we bare and beat our chest,
wearing fool’s gold and blood diamonds but we’ve won nothing yet,
honestly feels like we haven’t even started yet,
still we feel exhausted from this rat race for dominance,
slaves of an alien race we pledge allegiance with our obedience and faux pas ambiance,

And it’s all almost over for our entire empire so every moment better cherish it,
white robes with Chipko flip flops we hold the reins to Her Majesty’s chariot,
whipping the 500 horses faster in the fast lane will get you buried quick,
so I try and pace it and not get too wasted still I feel very sick,
when captain screams “You move too slow sailor!”, that’a when it’s time to depart this ship,
but you can’t rush good art and I’m an articulating artist for all the artisans,
in a constant state of affairs is why I haven’t married yet,

which of course means no divorce from any or all of this,
so I continue to translate transmissions without prejudice,
love is star crossed colorblind and my wonder mind is in wonderland’s luminescence,
as I illustrate illustrious illuminations off every edifice in this hedonistic eden like Edison,
with an ample amount of ambiance this is this rebels renegade Renaissance,
I write light before I become just another martyr for the Martian’s master plans,
my words are honest sonnets on tablets of mono-cultured monograms,
mono-glyphs that shine like a beacon on the Tower of Babel atop a cavernous monolith…

This is all honest in all honestness.

Here at the docks with assorted Goddesses and narcissistic walruses,
way up going under not trying to be negative but the only thing I’m positive of is,

we are cultivating a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
so stay up and keep your eyes open because the games have just started kid.

This is all honest kid.

And I’m open to discuss everything except religion and of course politics,
so if you’re having issues then tell me what the problem is and maybe we can solve it quick,
and please don’t blame the Dalai Lama or Obama’s broken promises,
see we all have soiled wings just like these vultures that pick at our carcasses,
as we dine on Soylent Green served hot from the meting *** of concubine colleges,
wrong right black white day night see everything has it’s opposites,
so even the kindest animals will turn into carnivorous cannibals when all that’s left,
is blown kisses well wishes ***** dishes corrupt princes and spiritual paralysis,
this is the age of the dawning of Aquarius and the end of our passing genesis…

But what do I know I’m just a Son of a Gun on the run writing this mystic futuristic hit-list,
dressed to the nines with a bottle of moonshine and a bunch of empty cartridges,
in the Wild West with Clint Eastwood no Kanye clean as a whistle mixin’ with ***** Harry’s pharmacist,
The Good Bad & The Ugly drink in acid rain and eat magic cactuses…

Howling at the full moon with peyote coyotes absent minded off the absinth mix…

Alive right here left for dead insane and out of practice with,
no clean water in the canteen and circling are the vultures just above us,
this teenage wasteland has no purpose with,
riff raft rats and religious rabbits in the crosshairs with deserted desert tortoises,
see these badlands will make the most professional professionals seem like just silly naive novices,
there’s nothing more to see here in this mirage except my rusty gun as it tarnishes…

my visions getting blurry bodies stopped but my mind’s still hurried this is what exhausted is,
and I’d escape if I knew a way out but instead I stay because I’m not sure what my other option is…

See I knew I would go I told you before everyone is targeted,
so soon it seems I’ll be just another rotting carcass that,
the Culture Vultures overhead dine on as their dinner when feeling peckishish,
terminated no terminator but like Arnold said, “I’ll be back.”, like I just started this…


∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

.i still can't get over the genius of W. H. Caruthers, the man who found polyesters, esters were usually used to make the prime composite of perfumes, when their application took off in the realm of clothing? ****... that's when their actual property exfoliated...

early Winter, in England...
ugh...
   wet... you know the harrowing
aspect of when the cold
mingles with wetness?
ugly... i can't say it better...
it's like... stroking an Irish
wolfhound, which just came back
from a run, all muddy,
cold, wet and... somehow sulky...
jeez!
            give me a teddy-bear,
real quick...
  i can appreciate the continental
cold...
   it's dry... there's frost...
sometimes the snow, an insulator,
and when it's really cold,
and there's frost,
whatever remains of
the water, turns into a glittering
expose of a metaphor for
a red carpet... tilt your head
to the left, tilt your head
to the right...
oh look! the paparazzi are taking
pictures!
the frost... my god...
it just glitters!
only when the winters
are dry, but they rarely are,
in England...
i hate England during the winter...
the rain just ****** me off...
i can do a dry minus 10...
but a minus 1 with the rain?
you have to be kidding me...
****'s sake!
    cold & wet don't work...
cold & dry?
  after a while you build up
an immunity,
there are invisible ***** in the air,
pinching your face as you walk
to the local supermarket
for the groceries...
i have to admit...
this is the first time i'm actually
anticipating leaving England...
****! i need a holiday!
the current state-of-affairs
is bugging me...
i want to turn this *******
time-bomb off...
even  the alt. media has succumbed
to the legacy media
sensationalism...
just give me over a month...
a grandfather with dementia,
a grandmother with neuroticism
humming some unknown song
in between staying silent
while drinking coffee and solving
crossword puzzles,
and then... a ******* thistle flute
jamming her imaginary
didgeridoo...
   wait till she hears my
mouthpiece...
**** it... throw me into
the monolith...
i'm tired of these tirades
of language anchoring in England...
there were three partitions
of Poland... how many,
are there of England...
too many to draw a geometric...
i can't watch this...
i need a break...
within the confines of a logic...
why would you go to somewhere
where it's warmer than where
you left from?
i'm going to a place that's
colder from where i came...
so?

well... the genius of polyester
clothing...
   i anticipating to cut my internet use
to a minimum this time...
i have the massive task
of reading potop by Sienkiewicz...
winter... it's either chess
or it's reading...
the second chapter of the trilogy...
the Swedish deluge of
the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth...

oh... now i remember why i wanted
to block that fella...
he started to sound, a bit too much
like my "friend"...
you know... that Anglophone
overlord...
who could have said:
you're not properly integrated
if you still speak your language
of birth... ******... THEN LEARN
FRENCH! OR SPANISH!
your pick... i hate people that
begin to sound like the friends
i had in high-school...
i hated all of them...
now i hate them even more...
like i'm responsible for him...
having a ******* apartment
provided by his father...
the fact that his mother and father
filed a divorce,
that he has a ******* younger
sister he might have to take
care of...
               my fault?!
what am i, god? i fake the rules
of the existential roulette?!

no, i need a break from speaking
this tongue,
what i will need is some Polish
radio,
some Polish t.v., and forgetting
this language, momentarily,
when i return, in situ,
while reading a book in Polish...
about the Swedish deluge,
when the democratic monarchism
model failed, when a king
of the Vasa stock was enthroned
on the "rule of thumb"...

generation prior, to mine?
***** off to Costa Rica...
to the beach...
i? i ******* to a place much colder
than, this here England...
winters in England would
have been just fine...
but i need a release from
this... island claustrophobia...
i need the continent about
2 times a years...
ha... funny...
the two times i tend to ****...
are... with the Bulgar women
in the Goodmayes brothel...

once after Christmas,
and once after Easter...
which makes me practically
the ugly twin of Jesus...

but you know what i learned
about home-grown terrorists,
that i learned about immigration
in Australia...
the concept of... heritage...
watching Australia's Master-Chef
i've learned how
Australians acknowledge the concept
of... heritage...
in England? you know why England
has home-grown terrorists?
the concept of heritage
is... completely... missing!

who are you, without a past,
but only a future, and a present?
i know i'm a psychological
mongrel...
but do you know...
you're a mongrel, through and through...
no... you're worse...
what they have done to you,
with enforced assimilation
by your parents...
you know what i said to my parents
when they suggested
that we only speak English
in private, at home?
******* - well...
it was more a subtle: NIET!

- and how do you respect a foreign
culture?
by respecting your own...
you can't have one, without the other,
otherwise the mimic subversion
of yourself will not work...
please, tier the cake...
there's more depth to a migrant
than merely talking the *******
tongue of the natives...

yes, i will speak English among the English...
that much is requested of me...
but... to... do... what prior migrants
did... and ****-up, ****-***,
****-**** of the natives?
how about the natives learn a second
language?
and not come out as the tourists
that can, truly be, sedated by foreign
cultures of H'america,
or Australia...
       being the... "tropic fruit"...
the... "exotica of diacritics"...
while, forgetting...
you go anywhere else...
guess what?
     what?
                   what?!
                           intimidation;
yeah yeah, some anglophiles in those
places...
   but guess what, tourist...
i speak yours, i don't expect you to speak
mine;  
  the moment you "ask" me to
translate speaking yours into
thinking "yours"... guess what...
i, have, mine!

- i still can't get over the genius of how
polyester clothing interacts with
the cold... i feel the cold... but i don't feel cold...
ingenious!
W. H. Caruthers... Michael Faraday...
my "new" two favorite people.

Cuz buzzards circle o'er me
eyeing these lovely bones prithee
id est Roy L. T. Canard, Si
hence impossible mission
to be lovey dove vee.

Vague remembrances of dream  
which recurred with frequency
transfixed by Sir Real majesty
shows me and the misssus evicted.

Hum habitually hiccuping
in tandem feeling woozy
virtually celebrating monarchism
with British Royal Family,
and about eager and ready
to take a snoozy
so please pardon this poet
exhibiting being a lil oozy,
nevertheless yours truly
birthed the following verse
a reasonable rhyme and doozy
considering yours truly tipsy and *****.

Now this raggedy man
whilst deep in sleep
this past night
what felt like galactic body
fell upon ma slumbering heap
affecting immediate fear
lest worst nightmare
viz management boot us
into emotional inferno

felt steel tipped kickstarter,
would crush with might
but lo… heavy weighted body
just zee spouse
plunked herself into zzz land
immediately within unconsciousness deep
that's the husband unable
to recaptcha pleasant dreams
well nigh past midnight.

Unable to shake away drunken stupor
nor defeat insomnia
reliving sinister tête-à-tête
so...rather than emit shrieks
like some angry bird
idea arose to resume completing poem
expressing discombobulated state,
whereby sixty shades
of grey matter feels
similar to thick whey curds
palliative sans restorative power
per rest hopefully clear muddled pate

plagued with grogginess
and marauding herds
of mailer daemons worse
than unsuitable mate
or a world wide web filled with nerds,
thus lethargy purged
via catharsis forming swords
follow rhyming pattern
to convey drowsy tipsy mood,
a synonym for my words.

Noah respite despite eliminating kinks
courtesy arched back from cat nap
as ginned tonic, nor lion here
feline groovy getting high temporarily
spells relief and serve as balm
with pillowed temptress ever near
beckons softly inviting calm
before this human
goes awry and berserk on manic tear
being revisited from haunts
inside head of this wordsmith
caught by men in white coats
coming to take me away
**-**, hee-hee, ha-ha,

to the funny farm
straitjacketing this maniac
wrought with weariness
dark ringed circles around eyes  
showing Adonis long since didst veer
Judas Priest or  
if you prefer heavens to murgatroyd
can't stomach bulge
spills o'er tattered underwear,
whose ***** by the way
once upon a time
about the size of average palm pilot,
yet taut for witnessing
three score plus three mortal year.

This ole goat intoxicated,
plus forcibly locked within
fas paux blinding darkness,
the pitch black common
all purpose room
in disarray after Skyping English fete
at fictional Knock Less Apartments aye
daily encounter, one bewitchingly

hair raising dreaded locked
rooted tension doth amplify
fiendishly horrible, jeeringly loopy,
nippy nap noopy,
pugnaciously ravenous, talon
viciously wizened, xenophobic yeti, zapping
zeroing zillion zippers,
zoned alley bye

barred doors fate helplessly jury-rigged
sealed with plaintive cry;
no escape known to this man caught
in a deadly voodoo clutch,
thus doomed to die
ugly cannibalistic, frightful,
heathen rumors myopic eyes espy
alarmed at feeling trapped

akin to a wingless fly
tapping reserves of scapegoat
coping techniques ingenuity,
which earned me moniker "fall guy,"
where accursed cruel fate destined exit
from getting husked, issued
jagged lance like mandibles "hi
there unknown weekly reader,” I

pray for super leftist
write hand man/woman to extricate
(via whipping up literary poetic fabrication),
then joining me to sing jai
(let victory prevail against killer odds)
perhaps summoning division
of British shiver rights phalanx,
hood reply with Hackneyed "oh kai"

springing surprise rescue,
sans swooping inside
mine hermetically faux invisible prison,
where this troubadour doth reside,
yet realistic to accept my
demise without putting up
a good fight well nigh
against inevitable mortality

(out maws of death)
gleefully depriving grim reaper
death his domain and
eventual unavoidable claim,
but if such kind unaccustomed soul
can cushion the blow of penury...
vis a vis philanthropic treatment
manifested as deliverance  

courtesy anonymous altruistic benefactor
plucking one bard
off downward slippery
precipice of homelessness,
ye will be rewarded with apple pie
ala mode enjoying a Quai,
yet moment with
Holden Caulfield doppelganger
made famous qua Catcher in the Rye.

They will come with their wares
to lay bare their senseless hate and angst
hailing People's Power while  odious temperaments stinks
and Putinize any dissent or opposition in a Gulag made for one

They are quick to shout Freedom and Equality
when what they mean is destroy success and enterprise
because its the others' fault that they made bad choices all along
and some land-owners built a Mansion two centuries ago in Wigan

They say its about Republicanism
yet target a soul from a Republic to show anti-monarchism
screaming diversity they banish the Semites and no a female Leader
they know all about Animal Farm and animals, deaf, dumb, obedient

I feel that the needs of the needful aren't being minified by environmentalism/nauturism/animism, latitudinarianism, cancerism, corporatism/corporativism, bureaucratism, governmentalism, devilism/satanism/diabolism/demonism, nudism, feudalism/serfism, universalism, conceptualism, defeatism, filibusterism, groupism, globalism, collectivism, centralism, communalism, internationalism, mercantilism/Americanism, utopianism, Illuminism, Fabianism, totalitarianism, mobbism/gangsterism, militaryism/militarism/ warlordism, imperialism, liberalism, statism/ stateism, fascism, authoritarianism, hucksterism, botulism, priapism, polydactylism, Mormonism, evolutionism/Darwinism/Lamarckism, dereism, ******/Naziism, Marxism, Bolshevism, Owenism, maturism, czarism/tsarism, eugenism, tokenism, albinism, pauperism, subversivism, battarism, Caesarism, Hitlerism, Rooseveltism, Leninism, Slavophilism/Slavism, Sovietism, Stalinism, Trotskyism, Titoism, Malthusianism/Neo-Malthusianism, mysticism, monarchism, regicidism, sciolism, socialism, Maoism, communism, absolutism, poplarism, Cahenlyism, Pollyannaism/Pollyannism, pedestrianism, homosexualism/lesbianism/sapphism, voyeurism, cultism/occultism, sectionalism, unicism, cronyism, mentalism, elitism, Hegelism/Hegelianism, fatalism, humanism/humanitarianism/existentialism, popeism, transvestism, Occamism/Ockhamism/nominalism, nihilism, neoterism, nephalism, Negroism, Neptunism, scientism, euphemerism, minimalism, alarmism, favoritism, rheumatism, infantilism, miserabilism, hoydenism, physicism, toadyism, rowdyism, aristocratism, loyalism, rightism/leftism, Mongolism, sadism/ masochism, plebeianism/plebianism, polyphalangism, simplism, quixotism, recidivism, selfism, alcoholism, synorchism/synorchidism, esoterism/esotericism, revisionism, hedonism, plagiarism, sophism, Indianism, Parkinsonism, timonism/Aristotelianism, barbarism, mercurialism, deism, narcissism, fetishism/fetichism, hypocorticalism, mitralism, bossism, ethnocentrism, multiculturalism, hierarchism, polygenism, mutacism/mytacism, narcotism/narcoticism, hermaphrodism/hermaphroditism, hylopathism, hyperadrenalism, catadicrotism, entorganism, invalidism, vampirism, ergotism, prostatism, hepatism & nepotism.