And then it happened.
Leviathan stirred in the Stygian depths of a black ocean; beachboy Apollo glided across the heavens on a gold surfboard drawn by swans; mountains imploded and stars fell from heaven. I left my body and circled the earth three times, faster than the speed of thought; snap, crackle, synapses popping like an electric toaster. Wagnerian Valkyries riding Harley Davidsons side-saddle sped across the Milky Way, lactating; the sun went nova; black lightning showered red sparks and set my hair on fire; the bible spontaneously combusted; a million angels sung hosannas to the sphinx. The past, the present, the future and something sideways spun backwards on a huge golden merry-go-round; the pantheon of every god and hero ever invented danced amongst the wooden horses. The pinball machine of creation banged out twelve million replays. I was speeding faster miles an hour on a moebius rollercoaster, twisting infinity. The music of the spheres had a Rock ‘n’ Roll beat. Teams of tag-wrestling Buddhist monks on flying carpets sent me reeling backwards with double cosmic clotheslines and I understood everything and nothing.
Bad wisdom - Bill Drummond & Mark Manning
Leviathan stirred in the Stygian depths of a black ocean; beachboy Apollo glided across the heavens on a gold surfboard drawn by swans; mountains imploded and stars fell from heaven. I left my body and circled the earth three times, faster than the speed of thought; snap, crackle, synapses popping like an electric toaster. Wagnerian Valkyries riding Harley Davidsons side-saddle sped across the Milky Way, lactating; the sun went nova; black lightning showered red sparks and set my hair on fire; the bible spontaneously combusted; a million angels sung hosannas to the sphinx. The past, the present, the future and something sideways spun backwards on a huge golden merry-go-round; the pantheon of every god and hero ever invented danced amongst the wooden horses. The pinball machine of creation banged out twelve million replays. I was speeding faster miles an hour on a moebius rollercoaster, twisting infinity. The music of the spheres had a Rock ‘n’ Roll beat. Teams of tag-wrestling Buddhist monks on flying carpets sent me reeling backwards with double cosmic clotheslines and I understood everything and nothing.
Bad wisdom - Bill Drummond & Mark Manning
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