Indeed, the Third Galaxy was faced with dire catastrophes on several fronts. The Ultimate Endless War planned and instigated by Ronald Rexona and his Evil Companion, Mr. "Big Dick" Snarly, was the most dramatic but not necessarily the worst. If they had not used "death dust" in their attempt to establish hegemony over the dwindling natural resources, the War could have ended as a "normal" catastrophe.
However, there were other tidbits in the pot some of which, in their synergy, more seriously poisoned the stew. The ever dwindling resources were compounded by the effects of climate changes which, in turn, had been engendered by the rapacious exploitation of natural resources. Much of this was do to the criminal negligence of the Bankers of Illusion and the MegaCorps. In turn, this increased the Arrogant leaders' perception of the need to establish absolute hegemony over these resources -- and this made the Ultimate Wars yet more inevitable.
True, it is difficult to find events in that poor world which mirror happenings in our real world with such potential for the unfolding of such absolute ugliness.
On the other hand, since the Third Galaxy is a parallel universe to our own, there is always a possibility that something similar could happen here if we should begin to trod an ill chosen path. I can assure you that in such a case it is not a good idea to expect some Alien Veggies to come and pull our collective chestnuts from the fire -- it ain't gonna happen!
I wish, in fact, I had not writ_____________________________________
a single line of this, but would it be fit to quit?
Should I say, "I fell and sprained my brains
upon my own and lots other people's pain?
Why did I write it? To entertain,
to denounce and shout about, explain or lay the blame?
No! Possessed by the flames of love,
I composed "RUST!" to keep from going completely insane.
Some may say it was obscene
a waste of time to write about these crazy beans.
But I swear to you that every line
was written by a witness at the scene of crime!
Between the madness of the mind
and the sadness of a world going completely blind:
There will always be a lonely freak.
He speaks to you – hear his silent, tormented shriek.
As a poetic device, "prophetic disclaimer" refers to Isayah 6:6 ("...one of the seraphim came unto me, having a live coal in his hand..."). The poem professes to claim that these verses were composed in order to maintain a semblance of sanity. Seeing the lights going out all over the world and a certain evil madness unfolding, what can one do but cry out against the criminal negligence?
"Rust!" was the original title of this collection before I realized that the Arrogant Prophecies were being channeled to me by an unemployed angel in the Third Galaxy.
In my ear, "beans" is a homonym for "beings", as in "human beings".
What you hear here is the voice of but one of many "lonely freaks", whose "silent, tormented shriek is a protest, that is a witness to the unfolding of an ugly evil such as the world has never seen.
The heart of prophecy is the love of our common humanity which is prepared to smash all idols. Is there any way to say it any plainer?