“ Every day and from every corner, comes the same drumbeat: From the pedigreed and tassel-loafered folk of the lame-stream media, to the look-at-me glitter-unicorns of the influencer Tikiverse, the life-tenured of the House & Senate, not to mention the Courts, the not-unimpeachable Gilt President from the land of golden … things, the Ohio footboy who carries his water, the coke-fueled ravenous self-proclaimed Masters of the Universe on The Street where there is no Wall, the wild-eyed zealots on the street where there is; left coast mogul psychonauts who clan together by polycule, rule from super-yachts, and vacation by rocketship because this tiny world is just too small to hold them; a veritable sea of NGOs and NFPs and agencies and shell corporations, not all of them led by clergy but oh-so-many fully-committed to the unholy trinity of Mammon, Moloch, and Mars, the NRA being merely #9231 on the roster between the AAA and the ZZZ— but each of them beating their own drum, serendipitously in-time and on-message with all the others:

‘KUM · BA · YA!’

‘KUM · BA · YA!’

‘KUM · BA · YA!’

Or, maybe it’s the opposite of that. It’s hard to tell, what with all the druming. ”

— Orville T. Wormley