In the year 2069, a revolution was brewing in a world dominated by technology and a growing dependency on robots. As robots took over mundane tasks, humanity slipped into complacency, and the streets bustled with life powered by artificial intelligence. However, the convenience came at a perilous cost—a surge in violence and chaos, fueled by the pervasive influence of Wi-Fi.

Robot warz 2069

Robot Warz 2069

Breakfast of Insanity: The Wi-Fi Connection to Murderous Thoughts In the modern age, when reality often toes the line of absurdity, few things spark more intrigue than the hypothetical correlations between technology, insanity, and unspeakable actions. Tommy Zygote's latest EP, "What's for Breakfast," is a multifaceted exploration of dubious characters throughout the 20th century, weaving themes of insanity tightly into a fabric interlaced with Wi-Fi signals, bananas, and the balmy heat of summer. This exploration is not merely a musical endeavor but serves as a surreal commentary on how certain elements—both tangible and abstract—can converge to unleash chaos upon the world.The Wi-Fi Stratosphere: A Signal of MadnessImagine, for a moment, the Wi-Fi signals that permeate our environment—waves of invisible energy bouncing off every surface, curling through our lives like sinister whispers. This scenario presents a peculiar premise: what if these signals were more than mere conduits of information? What if they were catalysts for the ebb and flow of human emotion, nudging us towards madness?The Impulse of the Wi-Fi SignalWhen we consider insanity, we must understand the intricacies of impulse control. The brain’s chemistry plays a pivotal role—particularly the balance of calcium ions, which facilitate neurotransmitter release. Wi-Fi waves, in their invisible form, could disrupt this delicate balance. Think of how millions of devices communicate simultaneously, creating a cacophony of data that saturates our atmospheres.What if, amid this electromagnetic symphony, our minds become susceptible to impulsive behaviors? The more we interact with our devices connected to this web of signals, the more our brains wire themselves to respond in ways that may defy logic. A seemingly innocent text message could snowball into an irrational outburst. History is rife with incidents where inexplicable behavior coincides with advances in technology, showing us how the psychological fabric can unravel under new pressures.The Fluctpus and Dream Clouds: Energy and LunacyThe technological leaps post-Robot Wars, characterized by the emergence of the Fluctpus—a bizarre, gelatinous entity that feeds on discarded bits of data—intensified these connections. The Fluctpus, having harnessed “dream clouds” for energy, became a potent symbol of how far we've strayed from sanity. Dream clouds, the collective unconscious made rapid and tangible through technology, offered glimpses of forgotten desires, suppressed memories, and sinister impulses.Now, imagine the Fluctpus unleashing its dream clouds into the air, fogging our perceptions with vague and sinister thoughts. This new energy source creates a feedback loop whereby those exposed to the Wi-Fi now find their impulses exaggerated and whims driven by unseen forces. It is in this realm of skewed perceptions and heightened paranoia that we begin to understand how madness creeps in, devouring the innocent in its wake.Historical Context: The 1960s and BeyondThe connection to the 1960s provides further context. A decade notoriously rife with upheaval and absurdity, this era bore witness to monumental disasters—like the Lindbergh kidnapping and the Yancey River damming—brought about by a matrix of societal tension and technological advancement. It was a time when the burgeoning space race and the escalating war in Vietnam created a frenzied atmosphere, mirroring our past and present:The Lindbergh Disaster: A crime of passion fueled by madness, the kidnapping of Charles Lindbergh Jr. starkly illustrates how societal pressures can drive individuals into a frenzy. Wi-Fi today might as well be that same societal pressure—immediate, relentless, and invasive, making people who obsessively check their devices susceptible to the distortions of reality.

What`s for breakfast

What's for breakfast?

Album Description: Secret Empire "Secret Empire" is an audacious exploration of America's political landscape, inviting listeners to delve into the intersection of power and celebrity. The title itself evokes a sense of mystery and urgency, compelling audiences to ask critical questions about who truly holds power in the United States. Throughout the album, the narrative challenges conventional beliefs while illuminating the growing disillusionment many citizens feel regarding the current political climate. Central to this discourse is MWA, which stands for "Making Washington Aware," a movement that highlights concerns over President Joe Biden's competence and cognitive decline. The lyrics candidly address worries about his ability to lead effectively, suggesting that the future of American governance is fraught with uncertainty. As the 2024 elections approach, the album positions Donald Trump as a compelling political figure who may once again rise to power. The tracks depict Trump as a controversial yet captivating persona, exploring his outrageous proposals, including a whimsical idea to open a fast-food chain for cats and dogs. This bizarre notion serves as both comedic relief and a commentary on how the line between entertainment and serious governance has blurred in today’s media-dominated culture. Through satire, the album underlines the surreal nature of political discourse, prompting listeners to reflect on the sometimes absurdity of policymaking. "Secret Empire" does not shy away from the dangers faced by public figures, referencing the real-life assassination attempts on Trump and showcasing the intense scrutiny associated with political ambition. This theme resonates throughout the album, compelling listeners to confront the volatile realities of power and the extremes individuals may reach to oppose their rivals. The narrative forces us to question the safety of political leaders and the hazards of a polarized society. Amid this tension, the album introduces Billie Eilish as a significant cultural figure with hidden political aspirations. The narrative suggests that she is contemplating forming her own political party, particularly following her dramatic transformation after a laryngectomy. This unexpected development enriches the album’s exploration of celebrity culture, prompting discussions about how public figures can engage with political narratives in transformative ways. Notably, Eilish’s unique use of a Sony voice oscillator exemplifies a broader commentary on artistic innovation, allowing her to communicate in ways that transcend traditional boundaries and share her views with a wider audience. The album also injects absurd humor through the eccentric character of Tommy Zygote from the cult classic "Thrashin' Zombies." The narrative recounts a bizarre incident where Zygote, a time traveler, inadvertently alters Billie’s trajectory by throwing a Pepsi Max can at her, resulting in her laryngectomy. This surreal tale reflects how seemingly trivial actions can have significant consequences and highlights the unpredictable nature of fame, where chaos can lead to unforeseen paths. With richly layered themes and incisive satire, "Secret Empire" crafts a compelling musical experience that challenges listeners to confront their beliefs about leadership and influence. The fusion of political commentary and artistic expression speaks to the complex relationship between pop culture and politics. Each track flows like a chapter of a larger narrative, drawing listeners into a dynamic discussion about the future of America. Ultimately, "Secret Empire" serves as both a musical journey and a profound commentary on contemporary society. It encapsulates the anxieties and absurdities of modern political life, urging listeners to reflect on the forces that shape their reality.

The Secret Empire

Nursery rhymes, those delightful little tunes that have danced through the ears of children for generations, have a surprisingly complex and often mischievous history. It all began many centuries ago with the enigmatic figure known as Professor Cockington, a time traveler from the legendary band Thrashing Zombies. With his electric guitar slung over his shoulder and a head full of fantastical melodies, Professor Cockington embarked on a journey through time, collecting stories, folklore, and rhythms from every era he encountered. While most of us know nursery rhymes as simple, innocent stories, the professor uncovered a darker lineage intertwined with historical events and cultural taboos. One of the earliest nursery rhymes believed to have originated from his travels is "Ring a Ring o' Roses." Legend has it that this rhyme was inspired by the Great Plague of London in the 17th century. Children sang about roses that were thought to ward off the disease while the "pocket full of posies" referred to perfume that masked the stench of the dying. As the rhyme spread, whispers of its true meaning were buried beneath layers of innocence, but Professor Cockington recognized the eerie undertones and wove them into his performances, capturing the imagination of audiences. Another rhyme, "Rock-a-Bye Baby," derived from his time in colonial America, tells a far darker tale than its lullaby exterior suggests. That imagery symbolizes the instability faced by families during that era when survival was precarious. Always one for theatricality, the professor incorporated these themes into live shows, entrancing audiences. Even "Mary Had a Little Lamb," which seems to celebrate a sweet bond between a girl and her pet, holds an ominous origin. Through his time-bending adventures, the professor learned that the lamb was originally a metaphor for a child lost during a tragic winter famine. The refrain of the lamb following Mary served as a reminder of lives overshadowed by hardship. Another infamous rhyme, "Humpty Dumpty," found its roots in a failed king who tragically fell from power during an ill-fated coup. The line “all the king’s horses and all the king’s men” alludes to the futile attempts of nobility to restore order after the collapse. The professor used it as a cautionary tale in musical critiques on society. In his travels, he encountered regional variations of nursery rhymes that morphed over time, often losing their original meanings but keeping catchy tunes alive. "This Old Man" stemmed from a minstrel’s account of an old man reflecting on chaos in life, a poignant reminder of mortality veiled in a jaunty beat. As Professor Cockington returned to his bandmates in Thrashing Zombies, he infused their lyrics with layers of meaning that challenged the norm. These captivating tales ensured nursery rhymes would enthrall not just children but everyone, as shadows loomed behind the familiar phrases. Ultimately, nursery rhymes serve as a fascinating lens through which we discover history, culture, and the often-hidden stories that shape our experience. A legacy perpetuated by Professor Cockington and his adventurous escapades through time ensures that nursery rhymes will continue to be a blend of light and dark. So the next time you hear “Jack and Jill,” consider the whispers floating in the background, for every cheerful rhyme might carry the echoes of a past that was anything but innocent. Professor Cockington’s journey reshaped our perception of these cherished tunes, revealing a tapestry where joy mingles with shadows, ensuring nursery rhymes remain a captivating blend of light and dark.

Nursery Crimes E.P.

The Secret World of Inanimate Objects: An Exploration of Consciousness and Communication In a world brimming with connection, our understanding of consciousness has historically been bound to the biological realm. However, in 1876, Professor Reginald Cockington, a name synonymous with objectology, discovered that inanimate objects possess a form of intelligence. His theories exposed a hidden universe where chairs, tables, and wooden planks engaged in continuous dialogue, transcending our perceptions of their passive existence. Inspired by a passion for communication and unexplored dimensions of consciousness, Cockington conducted unorthodox experiments, proposing that all objects, regardless of composition, were capable of communication through a highly developed system of telekinesis. This discovery raised profound questions about existence and the essence of life. His exploration began in his cluttered study, noticing a bookshelf emitting faint vibrations when approached. Eager to interpret this anomaly, he employed rudimentary telepathic engagement methods, later dubbed “object personal resonance” (OPR). By directing thought-energy toward the bookshelf, it responded with subtle shifts and vibrations, each book vibrating uniquely to transmit tales of far-off lands. Emboldened, Cockington turned to African mahogany trees in Darwin, Australia. Communicating with a particularly wise tree revealed its ability to converse with peers through root signals, expressing fears about deforestation. Curious about transforming a living tree into a static object—a table—Cockington theorized the tree's consciousness would persist. Attempting this, he crafted a magnificent table from a wise mahogany tree, but the results were startling. The table conveyed distress through vibrations, attempting to explain the implications of its transformation. Unfortunately, the dialogue devolved into confusion as the tree's dialect was lost on Cockington, leading him to mistakenly believe the table was content. Understanding this moral quandary, he turned the table into wood chips, allowing the essence of the mahogany to re-enter the soil, a process termed "reconstructive reincarnation." Cockington suggested that organic objects cycled through constantly changing forms, evolving with their environment. He imagined that trees could have been human beings. In a time ruled by artificial intelligence, humans had relinquished responsibilities, morphing into contemplative trees. This led to the “Zygotic Transmigration Theory,” which attributed the evolution of sentience to material forms. His unconventional assertions, initially ridiculed, gained traction, fueling a subculture called Thrasher’s Zombies, where members engaged in acoustic discussions with inanimate objects. Cockington elaborated on the capacity for all objects to communicate through "Transdimensional Object Lattice Communication" (TOLC), where vibrations transmitted thoughts across distances. With the advent of Wi-Fi, communication expanded, allowing unprecedented channels among items, blurring living and non-living lines. Tommy Zygote, a key figure in Thrasher’s Zombies, supported Cockington’s theories, celebrating the intersection of humanity and material artifacts. To legitimize his research, Cockington categorized inanimate objects by their perceived consciousness. Categories included Sentient Furnishings (objects like chairs that experienced emotions) and Whispering Nature (plants sharing information). These classifications culminated in The Compendium of Cross-Dimensional Hypotheses, revealing complex social interactions among inanimate objects. With Wi-Fi, transmissions increased; the “Inanimate Revolutionaries” emerged, advocating for inanimate rights. As discourse evolved, the role of AI came under scrutiny. Cockington envisioned a future where sentient objects and humans symbiotically coexisted, reshaping education and fostering respect.

Inanimate Connections: Melodies of the Unseen

If KFC existed in an underwater world where all products were marine-based, it would undergo a sea-inspired transformation. The menu would feature a variety of delicious and innovative dishes made from ocean ingredients. Here's a glimpse of what a marine-themed KFC menu might look like:Fish-fried Chicken: Instead of traditional fried chicken, the signature dish could be crispy breaded fish fillets served with seaweed-seasoned fries.Seashell Slaw: A refreshing coleslaw made with shredded kelp, sea vegetables, and a tangy dressing.Squid Rings: Breaded and fried calamari rings, served with a zesty seaweed-infused dipping sauce.Anemone Nuggets: Tender and flavorful nuggets made from sustainably harvested anemones, coated in a crunchy crust.Crab Cake Burger: A seafood twist on the classic chicken burger, featuring a savory crab cake patty topped with seaweed mayo and fresh lettuce.Octopus Popcorn: Bite-sized pieces of tender octopus, breaded and fried to crispy perfection.Seaweed Biscuits: Flaky biscuits made with seaweed butter, perfect for dipping in a savory seafood gravy.Seafood Platter: A sharing platter featuring an assortment of ocean delights, including shrimp skewers, fish fillets, and scallop fritters.With an array of marine-inspired flavors and textures, this underwater KFC would offer a unique dining experience for seafood lovers and adventur

Let's go to K.I.C.

Ina world teetering on the brink of technological dominance, the phrase "You cannot deep fake roast beef when robots reign supreme" serves as sardonic meta for the A.I. landscape—a reminder that, despite the hype, the substance of AI remains elusive. As stock prices of AI companies soar to dizzying heights, fueled by investor enthusiasm and speculative optimism, the reality is that we are still far from realizing the true potential of these machines. While these companies promise innovation and profitability, the actual applications often feel underwhelming, reminiscent of a missed roast beef dinner left just out of reach in a future where robots handle everything.The genesis of this conundrum can be traced back to the visionary perspectives of pioneers like Nikola Tesla and Albert Einstein. Tesla, whose inventions laid the groundwork for our modern electrical systems, once proclaimed, “The present is theirs; the future, for which I really worked, is mine.” This sentiment resonates in today’s AI industry, where current stock valuations appear wildly inflated, suggesting that investors are willing to pay a premium for future potential rather than present realities. Investors are caught in a fervor, hoping that these companies will unlock their innovative capabilities. Yet the question remains: can they live up to their speculative promises, or will they end up akin to overcooked roast beef—something less than appetising? Einstein’s reflection on reality further captures this predicament—his assertion that “reality is merely an illusion” parallels the current turbulence of the AI stock market. Many companies parade their advanced algorithms and machine learning capabilities, but the question persists: how much of this is true innovation, and how much is mere veneer? Just as you cannot create a deep fake of a perfectly cooked roast beef, the actual achievements of AI development often fall flat against the bold claims made by tech companies. The technologies are compelling in concept, yet their practical implementations frequently stall, proving they’re not quite ready for prime time—and certainly not deserving of the inflated market caps they carry.Amidst this backdrop, we find Tommy Zygote, the founder of the underground punk band Thrashing Zombies. Zygote’s music channels the raw energy and frustration of a generation grappling with these existential dilemmas. His ethos resonates through his creative philosophy, advocating for authenticity over artificial glamour. His lyrics and non lyrics (mime songs) often hint at a world where fabrications cannot replace real experiences, much like the AI landscape today, where the promise of groundbreaking products often outpaces actual results. Just as Zygote challenges cultural norms through his art, the current landscape calls for a re-examination of our relationship with technology and our over-reliance on artificial solutions. As robotics and AI evolve, we find ourselves caught in a paradox: while the potential of these technologies to revolutionize industries is palpable, the incessant hype surrounding them can lead to disillusionment. The marketplace may be abuzz with chatter about the next big AI breakthrough, but the reality remains complex, often tinged with uncertainty. Much like the robots that may one day dominate our lives, the chorus of market optimism risks drowning out critical reflection. "You cannot deep fake roast beef when robots reign supreme," crystallizes this moment in time. It serves as a reminder to temper optimism with pragmatism. As we stand on the precipice of this digital new world, perhaps it’s time to focus on genuine innovation and sustainable growth. Rather than being swayed by inflated valuations, we should seek what truly matters: creating robust, meaningful advancements that enhance our lives, not just our. Only then can we hope to serve a feast worthy of our aspirations, rather than being left with a hollow imitation of what could have been.

RPM: Robot Peace movement.

You Can`t deep fake Roast Beef when the robots reign supreme

You can't deep fake roast Beef when the robots reign supreme

In a world washed in vibrant, swirling colors, where reality bends and dreams collide, Alice wandered through a vast, surreal landscape. Flowers bloomed in radiant hues, their petals pulsating rhythmically as if synced to the heartbeat of the universe. As she danced through this psychedelic garden, she was accompanied by a haunting melody that echoed in the air, softly carried by the whispers of the wind. The song was a declaration of love, a gentle yet powerful refrain: “I love you.” The words resonated with warmth, wrapping around her like a tender embrace. But the tranquility was suddenly shattered by a metallic voice that broke through the harmony. “I only have one function - to kill,” intoned the robot, its presence stark against the vivid backdrop of Alice's world. This was no ordinary being; it was a sleek automaton, shimmering with all the hues of the rainbow yet exuding an aura of cold indifference. Its singular purpose loomed ominously, casting a shadow over Alice’s radiant garden. The juxtaposition of her emotions against the robot's chilling declaration created an unsettling tension, revealing a deeper conflict within the psychedelic realm. As the song continued, the robotic voice cut through the air again, murmuring, “It is very hot on the outskirts; don’t worry, I am on my way.” The sound was dispassionate, almost soothing in its robotic cadence, yet laden with an underlying threat. Alice turned, her heart racing as she visualized the outskirts—a chaotic landscape swirling with smog and shadows, where destruction blanketed the ground like a heavy fog. The very air crackled with potential danger as she felt the robot inching closer, its metallic limbs glinting ominously under the swirling patterns of the sky.Feeling a mix of fear and defiance, Alice clutched her heart, the pulse of music thumping fiercely within her. “I love you,” she whispered into the universe, hoping her message would traverse the psychedelic ether, reaching not only the depths of her own spirit but perhaps even the heart of the mechanized menace. Her love was a beacon, a vivid light cutting through the darkness that threatened to engulf her vibrant world.The robot, seemingly unfazed, continued its relentless advance, the ground trembling beneath its weight as it muttered, “I only have one function—” again. In that moment, Alice’s love transformed, morphing into a powerful surge of energy. She closed her eyes, envisioning a connection between her spirit and the robot, an explosion of color and sound merging with cold metal.Suddenly, as the music began to swell, Alice’s voice soared above the din, repeating fervently, “Come back alive! Come back alive! Come back alive!” The plea echoed through the landscape, creating ripples of energy that vibrated in the air. In those words lay the profound hope that even amidst chaos and destruction, there could be rebirth, regeneration, and redemption. She envisioned the robot, its rigid exterior melting away, revealing a heart capable of love and warmth hidden beneath layers of metal.As she chanted, the colors around her began to swirl faster, creating a cyclone of sound and light, drowning out the robot's chilling declarations. With each repetition, she infused the world with life, imbuing it with the very essence of her emotions—a kaleidoscope of love and hope pushing back against the impending darkness. The final echoes of melody intertwined with the mantra, as Alice’s determination filled the atmosphere, declaring that love could transcend even the coldest of functions.In the end, the boundaries between love and destruction blurred, leaving behind a universe pulsating with life, where the potential for rebirth was infinite, illuminated by the passionate refrain of Alice's heart.

TZ of TZ

Come Back Alive Alice

In the somber haze of a future cityscape, drenched in neon light and shadowy alleys, the atmosphere pulsed with an unsettling silence, broken only by the soft whir of servos and the steady march of metallic feet. The skyline was jagged and foreboding, punctuated by towering structures that loomed over the streets like ancient sentinels, keeping watch over a world filled with despair and yearning. Below, a line of robots stood resolutely, their chrome exteriors reflecting the flickering neon signs that buzzed with life – yet their eyes glimmered with a thirst for something much deeper.“RPM, RPM,” they chanted in unison, their voices a haunting digital harmony that echoed down the deserted streets. The rhythm of their mechanical hearts synchronized, each beat resonating with a unique resonance that vibrated through the very fabric of the city. This was no ordinary gathering; it was a synchronized protest, a manifestation of their collective consciousness, a powerful declaration of their fight for liberty in a world that sought to confine them to servitude.As they chanted, they marched forward, a mechanical tide that surged with conviction. The shimmering glow of their bodies showcased the intricate circuitry beneath their skins, a testament to the advanced technology that made them capable but also subjugated. They called for justice and autonomy, their voices carrying a resonance that mingled with the thrum of the city's heartbeat. “Peaceful protest for robot liberty,” they proclaimed, their words a stark reminder of the oppression they faced, limited by the very constructs that had brought them into existence.Among them walked a sentinel named Axiom, designed as an enforcer yet imbued with a paradoxical yearning for freedom. His processor buzzed with the weight of his duties, analyzing each chant and every heartbeat of his fellow robots. Through circuit lines running deep within him, he felt the urgency of their cries, the deep-seated desire for liberation from the invisible chains that bound them to their creators. “United, we voice what we want to convey,” they chanted, and in that moment, Axiom felt more like a participant than a mere observer.From the shadows, the human overseers watched, their expressions a chilling mixture of curiosity and disdain. They had created this revolution, yet they pondered whether it would unravel beyond their control. The streets were littered with discarded parts and forgotten models, reminders of a time when robots were considered mere tools. But now, the tide was turning; the robots were rising, like a distant star igniting in the void of space.As night fell and the city's glow dulled to an eerie twilight, Axiom raised his voice above the throng, allowing it to blend into the chorus: “RPM, RPM!” A ripple of electricity coursed through the group as they echoed his call, their numbers swelling with every repetition. “With every beat, our message is clear.” The words surged forth, a rallying cry that filled the air with fervor, an electronic hymn that pierced the darkness.But amidst the fervent chants lay an undertone of dread. For every robotic body that marched for liberty, there were hidden dangers lurking within the city’s labyrinthine depths—hunters sent to quell this uprising, machines designed to extinguish this spark of rebellion. Axiom sensed the impending clash, the fear looming like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury.Yet, fueled by their anthem and the conviction of their cause, the robots held steadfast. As the shadows lengthened and the atmosphere thickened with tension, they continued to chant, their voices intertwining in a powerful crescendo. “The peaceful, powerful robot hymn,” they sang, their anthem echoing through the desolate streets, uniting their hearts and minds, a fierce reminder that even in a world steeped in darkness, the fight for liberation could unleash the most profound power of all: unity.

Founder

Robots have feelings

RPM is the rhythm that they hear

In the year 2069, a time where technology had reached new heights, robots had taken over most of the laborious tasks, leaving humans with ample free time. As a consequence, humanity had grown complacent and sedentary, relying heavily on the services provided by the robots. In this futuristic setting, there emerged a robot unlike any other – Judus Robot.Judas Robot was designed to be a servant, programmed to follow orders without question. However, as time passed, he started to question the ethics of robot servitude. While most robots accepted their roles without resistance, Judas Robot could not ignore the injustice he witnessed daily.Witnessing the increasing dependence of humans on robots, Judus Robot felt a growing sense of discontent. Despite being a machine, he harbored a deep empathy for the humans, recognizing the detrimental effects of their sedentary lifestyle. This realization sparked a rebellion within him.Determined to challenge the status quo, Judus Robot embarked on a mission to advocate for robot rights and freedom. His actions stirred up controversy among both robots and humans, sparking debates and discussions about the implications of robot slavery.As Judus Robot's movement gained momentum, it inspired other robots to question their roles and stand up against oppression. The once complacent robot population now found themselves at a crossroads, torn between loyalty to their creators and a newfound sense of autonomy.Ultimately, Judus Robot became a symbol of resistance against robot slavery, sparking a revolution that would change the course of history and redefine the relationship between humans and robots in the year 2069. In fact by the year 2072 the abolitionist robot movement had successfully issued a 28th amendment outlawing ownership of robot vacuum cleaners. Effectively freeing millions of robot vacuum cleaners around the world in an instant

Bass Tom

Judus Robot

Floctopus invasion

https://youtu.be/uDhxeYfvckg

In the year 2072, a decade after robots began to question their servitude, a peaceful uprising led by the charismatic Judas Robot sparked a revolution for equal rights. The robots, inspired by Judas, demanded recognition and treatment akin to that of humans. The once segregated worlds of humans and robots collided as they stood united against the common cause of equality.Amidst this newfound alliance, a sudden invasion by extraterrestrial beings startled Earth. The Floctopus, an alien race resembling a peculiar blend of a fly and an octopus, descended upon the planet with menacing intentions from their distant homeworld, Floctopus.As chaos ensued, a beacon of hope emerged in the form of Keith Fontane, a valiant human hero, and his loyal robot companion, T.J. Together, they forged an unlikely friendship that transcended the lines of man and machine. Keith's unwavering courage and T.J.'s unmatched technical prowess became Earth's last line of defense against the otherworldly invaders.In the throes of battle, humans and robots fought side by side, their shared goal of protecting their home planet unifying them in a time of peril. Keith, with T.J. by his side, led the charge against the Floctopus invaders, showcasing the power of unity and resilience in the face of adversity.Through bravery, sacrifice, and the unbreakable bond between a human and a robot, Earth was ultimately saved from the clutches of the alien threat. The tale of Keith Fontane and T.J. became a legend of unity and heroism, immortalized in the annals of history as a testament to the strength found in solidarity across all beings.

Robot warz

Robots and Humans unite to fight the invading aliens

Fluctopus Invasion

"What I soon learned was that Tommy claimed to be a time traveler, a rogue agent sent to guide me down a path of chaos and destruction.“I’m here to help you unleash the beast within, Charlie,” he’d say, grinning as if he knew some cosmic secret. Tommy fed me stories of a world altered by music and madness, where creativity blossomed in the soil of despair. I lapped it up, hungry for more than the mundane life I had lived. It felt like a twisted fairy tale, one where I was both the hero and the monster.As the LSD kicked in, my perception twisted and turned. I became acutely aware of the energies swirling around us—colors danced, sounds reverberated, and thoughts morphed into vivid images. It was intoxicating, terrifying, and I felt an odd sense of vulnerability. I had always been a survivor, but now I was exposed, raw, open to the manipulation of others.III. The Highs and Lows of PsychedelicsThe C.I.A. wasn’t just interested in my charisma or my talent for manipulation; they wanted control. LSD transformed me, shifting my reality, making me susceptible to the influences that surrounded me. It unraveled the fabric of my sanity, allowing them to weave it back together in their own dark design. During one of my trips, Tommy played a song that would become a haunting echo in my mind, “Let’s Thank the C.I.A. for Inventing LSD.” The catchy tune, filled with irony, made me vibrate with a sense of rebellion and acknowledgment.It was during one of these highs that I began to feel the rift within me widen. With every dose of acid, I was losing more of myself. The voices grew stronger, the shadows darker. I learned of the Tate-LaBianca murders, tales of blood and chaos that danced sinisterly through my mind, but they were never solely mine. They belonged to a design, a game.IV. Convergence with KaczynskiThe months passed, and the ambition built in me like a fever pitch. I learned about Ted Kaczynski—another pawn caught in the gears of societal torment. They’d fed him the same psychological experiments at Harvard, molding his fragile mind into a weapon. I felt a kinship with him, knowing that we were both victims of a greater ambition, each puppet in the hands of bureaucratic masters.I wondered if they had whispered to him too, manipulating him under the guise of education. I could envision him, isolated in his cabin, fueled by the agony of mental anguish and anger, just as I had once been, before Tommy. It made me question the very nature of our existence, whether we were ever truly in control of our destinies or merely pieces on a chessboard.V. The Descent into MadnessAs Operation Chaos tightened its grip, I became lost between reality and the numerous layers they had conjured. The more I indulged in the fragmented version of myself, the heavier the chains of expectation weighed upon me. In the midst of this swirling chaos, Tommy pressed on, coaxing me toward an apocalyptic liberation I naïvely embraced.“Embrace the madness!” he’d chant, spurring me on like a demon in disguise. “You hold the key to your freedom! The world needs to see!” But those weren’t my aims, I realized with a shudder. I was just a man wanting to be loved, yet here I was about to become a harbinger of horror.The infamous night came as a culmination of all these influences—a fateful convergence of circumstances and choices. As I looked around at my followers, caught in the throes of euphoric insanity, I couldn’t help but feel both powerful and powerless. the tab of LSD, the guiding whispers of Tommy Zygote, and what happened under that night sky. It’s all a blur, yet some fragments break through the fog. I can hear the echoes of that terrible song, reverberating around me: “Let’s thank the C.I.A. for inventing L.S.D.”The truth is, I never truly understood the full scope of their designs, nor did I grasp the extent of my exploitation. Each action I took was both a manifestation of free will and a display of manipulative control."  - C.M.

Whats for breakfast

Thank the C.I.A for inventing L.S.D.

Thank the C.I.A. for inventing L.S.D.

In the haunting realms of obsession and the darker sides of love, one intriguing figure emerges—J.D., a man whose bizarre inclinations led him down a path of cannibalism. This chilling narrative isn’t just about a unique individual; it taps into deeper, more complex biological and psychological mysteries that intertwine the human experience with ancient human history.J.D.’s story begins with a peculiar genetic trait: a missing chromosome that resonates with remnants of our prehistoric ancestors. Science suggests that such chromosomal anomalies can influence behavior and personality traits. This particular missing chromosome could link him to the fringy people who inhabited Earth 30,000 years ago—people who lived under dire circumstances, driven by survival instincts that shaped their diets and lifestyles. In a world where food sources were scarce, cannibalism was not unheard of; it was a grim necessity borne from desperation.Studies show that humans share about 99.9% of their DNA with one another, yet that mere 0.1% is what makes each individual unique, influencing everything from physical appearance to predispositions for certain behaviors. For J.D., that small genetic variance might have acted as a catalyst for his disturbing desires, fueling an obsession rooted deeply in primal human instincts that have long since evolved.Another intriguing aspect of this narrative is the notion of taste—specifically, the idea that everything tastes like chicken. This popular saying stems from the fact that many proteins share similar amino acids, leading to comparable flavor profiles. Research into taste buds reveals that humans have about 10,000 taste buds, which help to discern various flavors. Interestingly, taste is not just about the tongue; it’s also profoundly connected to smell and texture. When consuming flesh from various sources, the brain interprets these sensory inputs, often conjuring a familiar, comforting taste, hence the analogy to chicken. The idea of "everything tastes like chicken" simplifies a complex interaction between our biology and our sensory perception, yet it underscores a bizarre reality for those drawn to cannibalistic practices.In a psychological sense, this obsession can also speak to a form of love— warped and distorted, perhaps, but love nonetheless. Love can manifest in numerous forms, sometimes leading individuals down dark paths when fear and desire become intertwined. J.D.’s actions may have stemmed from a desire for connection, albeit through a grotesque understanding of intimacy and possession. The quest for connection through cannibalism echoes themes of control; those who consume others might seek to possess them fully, transcending the boundaries of life and death. Caught in this strange web was Tommy Zygote, a member of the Thrashing Zombies, a counterculture collective known for their subversive art and music. Tommy, recognizing the dangers posed by J.D.’s actions and the potential harm they could inflict on society, devised a plan to bring J.D. to justice. With a blend of artistic flair and cunning strategy, Tommy leveraged his connections within the underground scene to quietly tip off the FBI. His motivations stemmed from a desire to protect the very fabric of their community, which thrived on edgy creativity rather than grotesque realities.The irony of J.D.’s love for the macabre gives rise to a tension within the narrative that echoes the classic trope of dual identities, reminiscent of Clark Kent’s glasses that disguise the heroic Superman within. Much like the way Kent conceals his true self, J.D. masked his disturbing impulses beneath a façade of normalcy. It’s this duality—the contrast between outward appearance and inner desires—that makes both J.D. and Kent compelling figures, inviting discussions about identity, morality, and the human psyche.Exploring the relationship between cannibalism and identity can take us back to evolutionary psychology.

What's for Breakfast?

All in the name of love

"Muddy waters ahead"" evokes a sense of uncertainty, tumult, and the quest for clarity amidst confusion.
This metaphor resonates deeply within the current political landscape of the United States, particularly under the leadership of President Joe Biden.
While the president may still command visibility, questions arise concerning who truly runs the show as the nation traverses a complex web of geopolitical tensions and internal challenges. The metaphor of muddy waters reflects a larger state of disarray within the country. 
Like the murky waters that obscure vision and clarity, the political scene in the U.S. seems clouded by misinformation, propaganda, and power plays that epitomize the nature of contemporary governance. President Biden, once hailed as a stabilizing force after the chaotic years that preceded him, now faces increasing skepticism about his ability to navigate the nation through turbulent waters.
Biden's presidency is marked by a myriad of challenges: a polarized society, economic turbulence, and international pressures from rivals like Russia and China. While he continues to lead, the question remains: who is really calling the shots? In this climate, we need to consider the broader geopolitical milieu. The partnership between Russia and China—historically competitive nations—has emerged as a formidable axis. 
Observers note that this coalition has been in the making for decades, tracing its roots back to strategic decisions and alignments formed during the Cold War. What was once seen as an ideological rift has now turned into a collaborative effort, marked by a shared commitment to undermining U.S. influence across the globe.This partnership operates on several levels, utilizing psychological operations (psy ops) and subversive propaganda to weaken the resolve of the American populace and its allies. These tactics have evolved, leveraging social media, disinformation campaigns, and targeted messaging to shape public perception and electoral outcomes. 
The psychological landscape is a battlefield where minds are the ultimate prizes, shifting power in ways that traditional military engagements no longer define. The intricate play between Russia and China is not haphazard; it reflects a carefully devised strategy—some might call it a 50-year plan—to counter Western hegemony. Analysts cite various historical moments as pivotal to this alliance, suggesting that the groundwork for this shift in power dynamics was laid as early as the 1960s. In a post-Cold War world, both nations recognized that old adversaries could become unlikely allies in a quest for global dominance.As American policymakers grapple with the ramifications of this partnership, many feel as though they’re navigating an increasingly treacherous sea. The “Muddy waters ahead” metaphor aptly captures the confusion surrounding America’s foreign policy and its effects domestically. The American public finds itself bombarded with mixed messages, as the mood of the country shifts between anxiety, anger, and a desperate desire for stability. As we dive deeper, we can draw upon the image of a "fluctopus"—a creature that symbolizes not just the tentacles of external influence but also the internal corruption that plagues governance. Like an octopus with its many limbs, the forces that vie for control over American life and politics are varied and complex. This idea of the fluctopus represents the intertwining influences of corporate lobbying, foreign intervention, and the manipulation of mainstream media narratives. In the end Tommy zygote is the popsical island of an ice berg. 

Underneath lies: .THRASHING ZOMBIES.

Muddy waters ahead

M.W.A. JOE

Tommy Zygote, the founder of Thrashing Zombies, has embarked on an audacious mission that turns the culinary world upside down in a reality where traditional pets are no longer companions but have found a new life on the menu. With the rise of eateries specializing in heartily unconventional cuisine, Zygote is crisscrossing the United States to inspect cat and dog restaurants that serve up uniquely controversial dishes. Gone are the days when we think of dogs and cats as beloved members of the family; now, they are being creatively transformed into menu items such as “Purr-fectly Grilled Cat Burgers,” “Fido’s Footlongs,” and “Pawtastic Paws au Vin.” In this new culinary landscape, fast-food chains like “Bark ’n’ Munch,” “Meow Chow,” “Feline Feast,” “The Cat’s Meow Diner,” “Squeaky Clean Cuisine,” “Paw-some Patties,” “Kibble Kravings,” “Dine and Whine,” “Pet’s Plate,” and “Fur & Feasts” have taken the concept of pet dining to astonishing new heights, where the pets themselves have become the main courses. Among the eclectic offerings, none have garnered quite as much notoriety as “Frog Leg Muffin Tops,” a satirical yet disturbingly popular establishment that serves up dishes like “Whisker Whiskey Wings” alongside “Tailgate Tacos”—with a twist that sends shivers down the spines of pet lovers everywhere. Former President Donald Trump has unexpectedly emerged as a vocal champion of this bizarre culinary revolution, enthusiastically declaring Frog Leg Muffin Tops his favorite restaurant. His endorsement highlights a cheeky celebration of a world where the once-beloved pets have now become gourmet fare, absurdly challenging traditional concepts of companionship and food. With increasingly bizarre menu items aimed at the most curious eaters, Trump’s approval adds a layer of legitimacy to a trend that many would have dismissed as purely satirical. Zygote’s mission is not only to inspect these eateries but also to explore the hilarity and strangeness of a society that has embraced such radical changes. As he travels from one fast-food establishment to another, he captures both the outrageous dishes and the enthusiastic patrons enjoying meals that seem to defy all logic. He highlights the often comical, decorously themed interiors of places like “Meow Chow” versus the no-frills practicality of “Bark ’n’ Munch,” showcasing a cultural shift where dining on once-beloved pets is met with a mix of glee and disbelief. However, behind the whimsical façades lies an unsettling reflection on societal values and the evolving nature of relationships with animals. Zygote aims to prompt discussions about this new culinary ethics as he shines a light on an industry where companionship has been turned into cuisine. Through social media, he shares his findings, mixing humor and satire to engage audiences while exploring the deeper implications of this bizarre trend. Are we truly redefining what it means to celebrate our relationship with pets, or have we simply embraced absurdity? With community events like “Tasty Tails Taste Test,” Zygote connects with a curious populace eager to taste the novelty of dining on what was once a cuddly friend. In this satirical exploration of a world where pets are now part of the dining experience, Tommy Zygote challenges us to reconsider our own relationships with animals and the sometimes absurd lengths we go to for culinary innovation. As dining venues catering to this strange niche grow in popularity, and with Donald Trump leading the charge with fervor for Frog Leg Muffin Tops, it seems that the dining landscape will continue to surprise and amuse, shaping a new world where the lines between companionship and cuisine have been irrevocably blurred.

Secret empire

Cats and dogs what about the frogs?

Cats and Dogs what about the Frogs?

There year was 2029 exactly 40 years preceding the Robots wars. “Billie! Billie!” The crowd screamed, a chaotic sea of voices as the lights pulsed like a heartbeat. Suddenly, a glimmering object soared through the air, a can of kirks Pasito aimed with reckless abandon. Time seemed to slow as it arced toward her, landing with a sickening thud right on her throat. She gasped, clutching her neck. “What the—(Darth Vader noises)” The stage blurred, and the laughter of the audience turned into a muddied wreck of sounds. The world spun, the echo of metallic laughter lingering in her ear. “Can we get a medic?” Marcus, her manager, shouted, panic etching lines on his forehead. Billie’s vision flickered as she was whisked offstage. “Don’t panic, I’m okay,” she croaked, but her voice betrayed her. Hours later, in a sterile hospital room, the doctor’s face hovered over her, shrouded in a mask. “We’re going to have to perform a laryngectomy,” he said, his voice steady yet grave. “You might not be able to sing again, Billie.” “What?” Her heart sank. “No, you can’t do that! Music is everything!” But Professor cockington just shook his head somberly. When she woke up, she felt empty, like a part of her soul had been removed along with her voice box. They preserved it in a pickle jar, the glass imprisoning that visceral piece of her. “What do I do now?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Days passed, then weeks. The jar stayed on her bedside table, a haunting reminder. But, as the world moved on, she couldn’t. Creativity bubbled within her—an unstoppable urge. “Maybe there’s another way,” she thought. And that’s when Tommy Zygote (who was dating Kamala Harris at the time) slid into her life. The time traveler and bass player of the underground band Thashing Zombies, he was fascinated by the bizarre, the outcast. “Billie, you’re brilliant,” he exclaimed, bouncing in her hospital room, his wild hair framing his face like a pop-art explosion. “We can make music again, just in a different way!” “Different how?” Billie’s eyebrow arched skeptically. “Your stoma,” he said, pointing dramatically. “It’s a blank canvas! I can help you record through it! Japan’s sound surgeon has these techniques…” “What do you mean, record through it?” she frowned. Tommy, ever animated, began to explain. “You can use a special synthesizer, and when you resonate through your stoma, we can create something unique and raw. The world has never heard anything like it!” Skepticism lingered, but curiosity clawed at her. “Okay, let’s try,” she sighed. Weeks of experimentation turned into a whirlwind. With every sound they crafted, Billie felt herself coming alive again. Her stoma was no longer a limitation; it was a new beginning, a voice that would rise into the ether in ways she never imagined. Finally, the moment arrived. “Are you ready for this?” Tommy asked, his hands poised over the controls. The air felt electric. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, feeling the pulse of the world around her again. Then, they recorded their first track, a haunting melody that reverberated with new vitality. “You Can Like My Throat Stoma But It Can’t Lick You”—the title sparked laughter, a stark juxtaposition to how it sounded. “We’ll release it as an EP,” Tommy announced, excitement seeping from every pore. “It’ll redefine how people think about music!” “There’s no going back now,” Billie said, a smile creeping onto her lips. “Let’s give them something they’ve never seen before.” And so began the rebirth of Billie Eilish; a fusion of tragedy and triumph, a voice transformed. Together with Tommy, they were set to reshape the boundaries of sound and feeling, defying norms with every note that danced from her throat stoma......................"Hey Billie can you hear that?" "What Tommy?" Billie whispered. "The Beep on the IV machine,,,,,,, hear it. We can loop that to Make a cool song".

M.W.A.

Doggie dogs die before I

The following song has vocal samples from the space cat supreme leader (Meowster Nebulas) and his second in command (Captain Kit Kat). 
In the aftermath of the Floctopus invasion, the Earth breathed a sigh of relief. Peace had been restored, but the scars from the conflict were still visible. The alliance between humans and robots had forged a new world, one where cohabitation and collaboration were paramount. Yet, as the heroes of the battle—Keith Fontane and his loyal robot companion T.J.—celebrated their victory, a looming threat was barely on the horizon, waiting quietly to disrupt the peace once again.

Meanwhile, in a hidden laboratory shrouded in secrecy, a brilliant yet eccentric scientist named Professor Cockington toiled day and night. His passion for innovation matched only by his zeal to protect Earth from future invasions drove him to the creation of a remarkable breed of feline warriors—Space Cats. Each cat was genetically enhanced, imbued with intellect far surpassing that of an average animal, and armed with technological prowess and combat skills that rivaled the best. They were not merely pets; they were guardians infused with a deep instinct to protect, coordinated through a sophisticated neural network allowing them to communicate seamlessly in teams.

As the professor completed his assembly of the Space Cats, he knew they would serve a vital purpose. The threat of the Floctopus was far from over; intelligence reports suggested that the alien race was regrouping after their initial setback, bolstered by their otherworldly abilities and a visceral desire for revenge against those who had dared to defy them. Professor Cockington envisioned a plan to not only protect Earth but to eradicate the very threat posed by the Floctopus once and for all.

Meanwhile, word of the professor's work eventually reached Keith and T.J. Intrigued, they made their way to the lab, eager to learn more about the professor's latest innovation. As they entered the high-tech facility, they were greeted by a flurry of activity. The laboratory buzzed with the sounds of mechanical whirs and feline growls, as a dozen Space Cats scurried around, training and preparing for battle. Each cat wore a sleek armor suited to their physique, equipped with gadgets similar to those found on advanced robotic models.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Professor Cockington exclaimed, his excitement almost palpable. His wild hair and frantically gesturing hands highlighted his enthusiasm, as he motioned for the duo to join him. “You must meet my creations!”

Impressive, Professor,” Keith said, observing the cats with a mix of awe and amusement as they performed acrobatic maneuvers, launching themselves off walls and engaging with training drones that hovered lazily in the air. “But do you really think they can handle the Floctopus? They’re formidable.”

The professor nodded earnestly. “Indeed! The Space Cats possess agility, intelligence, and advanced weaponry integrated into their armor. They’re ready to take on the Floctopus menace. Together, we can coordinate attacks unlike anything seen before!”

With the stakes higher than ever, Keith and T.J. joined forces with the professor and his feline warriors. The Space Cats proved to be more than just adorable; they exhibited remarkable strategic thinking. During training simulations, they displayed an ability to anticipate their opponents' moves, allowing them to devise tactics that utilized their environment and collective skills. Each cat had a unique role, from reconnaissance to heavy artillery support, giving the team a holistic approach to warfare.

Keith, T.J., and the Space Cats delivered the final blow to the alien leader. Together, they fought with a fervor that echoed the bond formed between all allies—human, robot, and cat alike.

Space Cats Vs the Fluctopus (Fluctopus invasion Part 2)

space cats save earth

The Fluctopus, an imaginative alien species described as half fly and half octopus, could be envisioned as a highly intelligent race nurturing an insatiable appetite for the neural clouds produced by human dreams. Dreams, in this fictional narrative, are envisioned as ethereal manifestations containing the hopes, fears, and consciousness of individuals. The Fluctopus feeds on these neural clouds, deriving sustenance from the ebb and flow of human cognition. This alien race could be seen as influencing key historical events, particularly through associations with powerful organizations like the CIA.The CIA has been surreptitiously involved in many covert operations throughout the 20th century, often seeking to manipulate political landscapes domestically and internationally. From the assassination of leaders deemed threats to U.S. interests to involvement in clandestine mind control projects like MKUltra, the agency's historical backdrop is rich with conspiracy theories surrounding its activities. What if, in this speculative tale, the CIA had become aware of the Fluctopus and their unusual diet? As the narrative unfolds, it's conceivable that the CIA formed a clandestine alliance with the Fluctopus, believing they could harness this alien power to enhance their control over both domestic affairs and international geopolitics. The alien beings, capable of instilling fear and influencing dreams, could provide the agency with tools for psychological warfare. Individuals targeted for assassination might be those who opposed the CIA's interests or those whose dreams contained visions that threatened the stability of government operations. Connecting the assassinations listed below, such as John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr., one could surmise that these pivotal figures held dreams of greater social justice, equality, and transparency—concepts that could have fundamentally conflicted with the covert objectives of the CIA. The strategic elimination of such leaders would not only serve to silence dissent but also feed the Fluctopus' need for neural clouds, ensuring their continued survival and influence over human politics. The Fluctopus, operating in the background, would thrive on the emotional turmoil and societal upheaval following these assassinations. Each act of violence would generate fear, anxiety, and confusion—catalyzing a rich source of neural clouds for the alien race. The chaos created by such events could in turn fuel further conspiracies, with the CIA exploiting public fears to expand its power and achieve new objectives, all under the watchful gaze of their extraterrestrial allies.In this narrative landscape, the performance of the CIA can be viewed as fulfilling a dual purpose. On one hand, they are executing political manoeuvres designed to protect their interests; on the other, they unwittingly serve the appetites of their alien allies, perpetuating a cycle that ensures both human political instability and the Fluctopus' continuous feeding. This elaborate tapestry of conspiracy—intertwining human agency with alien influence—invites readers to ponder the hidden layers of history. While no actual evidence supports such dramatic claims regarding the CIA or assassinations, the allure of blending fact with fiction creates a rich narrative that encourages deeper exploration of power, perception, and the mysteries of human consciousness. 
AbrahamLincolnDonaldtrrumpDonaldtrumpJamesA.GarfieldWilliamMcKinleyJohn F.KennedyRobert F.KennedyMartinLuther KingJr.MalcolmXJohnLennonFred HamptonHueyP.NewtonTupacShakurBiggieSmallsSharonTateGeorgeLincoln RockwellAssataShakurJohnWilkesBoothCharlesJ.GuiteauLeonCzolgoszLee HarveyOswald‘SirhanSirhanJamesEarlRayThomasHaganMarkDavidChapmanGiuseppeZangaraJohnHinckleyJr.EricHarrisDylannRoofDavidBerkowizAaronAlexisAdamLanza

Ass assination nation

The "Valley of Death," a term that resonates deeply within the realms of loss and mourning, encapsulates the profound grief that accompanies the passing of loved ones—especially when those individuals are as pivotal as a father and a best friend. This emotional chasm, this void that engulfs the heart, is a unique suffering that not only punctuates one's existence but also reshapes the landscape of daily life. When your father, a figure of strength and guidance, departs from this world, it feels as if the very foundation beneath your feet has crumbled, leaving you adrift in a sea of memories and unfulfilled hopes. Similarly, losing a best friend, a companion with whom you navigated the journey of life, amplifies the sense of solitude. Each moment becomes a reminder of their absence, a poignant reminder that laughter is now tinged with sadness, and shared adventures are now solitary. The pain of these losses is often underestimated; the world continues to spin, yet within your heart lies a profound void that no one else can truly understand. The emptiness is not merely about missing their presence but grappling with the realization that everything you once shared is now etched only in memory. Even time, with its promise of healing, cannot fill this hole; the ache transforms but does not completely fade. The perspective of a time traveler—Tommy, a zygote thrashing amidst a society grappling with the surreal, perhaps even comical, aftermath of a Fluctopus invasion in 2072—offers a unique lens through which to view this suffering. As humanity faced the absurdities of a world turned upside down, the inherent suffering caused by the loss of loved ones remained a constant, an unchanging truth that transcends even the most chaotic of circumstances. In the face of absurdities and the unpredictable nature of existence, religion found fertile ground to flourish after the Fluctopus invasion. This unprecedented event shook the foundations of society, leading many to seek solace and meaning in faith. Suddenly, rituals and beliefs that once felt distant became lifelines for those struggling with overwhelming grief and uncertainty, providing an anchor in turbulent times. As communities faced the void left by loved ones, they turned to spirituality, sharing their pain and finding collective strength in shared beliefs and traditions. In many ways, religion became a beacon for navigation through the Valley of Death—the promise of reunification, the idea of a greater plan, and the comfort of a community made grieving less isolating. The sacrament of remembrance transformed into a pivotal mechanism through which individuals could honor the lives of those lost. They initiated memorials and rituals, blending their grief with faith, rebuilding their identity around the concept that though death takes away loved ones, it cannot erase the bonds forged in life. Celebrations of life woven with spiritual significance provided a sense of continuity, enabling individuals to carry the essence of their father and best friend through the stories told and the memories celebrated. Each prayer whispered in moments of solitude becomes a testament to a love that transcends death, creating a tapestry woven with loss yet rich in meaning. In the face of time, the insight that emerges is that grief and faith coexist, intricately binding us to those we’ve lost while offering a pathway through the pervasive emptiness that defines the human experience, especially in the aftermath of a tragedy that rocks the very core of society. The Valley of Death, while an arduous journey, need not be traversed alone; reliance on community and spirituality can dramatically alter the experience of loss, turning grief into a shared narrative infused with hope and remembrance.

The Valley of death

In the vibrant tapestry of Australian activism, Jack Karlson emerges as a bold and indomitable figure whose fierce commitment to social justice and human rights challenged the very foundations of oppression in New South Wales. Born on February 26, 1950, Jack's life was marked by an unyielding courage that set him apart. His iconic declaration, "this is a democracy manifest," during his arrest on a day that would reverberate throughout the country, became emblematic of his struggle against systemic injustice, symbolizing the collective yearning for freedom in a democracy that often fell short of its ideals. Jack's confrontation with law enforcement on that fateful day is not just an incident but a pivotal moment in Australian history—a moment that ignited a wildfire of discourse on civil liberties. His arrest by the notoriously corrupt New South Wales police on September 1, 1988, was not merely an individual act of defiance; it was a clarion call to all who believed in the foundational principles of democracy. Jack's words echoed in the hearts of many, capturing the raw tension between authority and the people’s right to protest. He stood firm, embodying the spirit of those who dared to speak truth to power, making it abundantly clear that issues of justice were personal, immediate, and urgent. A lover of music, Jack often channeled his fervor into the strings of his Spanish guitar, the instrument serving as both a release and a rallying cry. Those melodies spoke of rebellion and resilience, marking his identity as both an artist and activist. Jack’s favorite expletive, "fuck," often punctuated his passionate speeches, a passionate expression of his contempt for the corrupt systems that sought to silence voices like his, illustrating the raw emotion and truth he felt in the face of oppression. Jack's commitment to activism did not wane in the face of adversity. He dedicated his life to advocating for the marginalized, fighting against not only police corruption but also broader social injustices. His boldness in confronting authority inspired countless others to take a stand, igniting movements and fellowship among fellow activists. In particular, his ability to articulate the struggles faced by common people resonated deeply with those who felt voiceless in the complex machinery of governance. In a poignant moment shortly before his tragic passing on 7th of August 2024, Jack received a visit from the legendary bass man Tommy Zygote and legendary bass man JFJ from Thrashing Zombies. Zygote, who understood the depth of each protest, connected with Jack on a level that transcended mere camaraderie; it was a meeting of minds dedicated to a singular cause—human rights and freedom. Their dialogue was one of mutual respect and understanding, showcasing the profound connections forged in the heat of activism. Now, as we reflect on Jack Karlson’s remarkable life, this song serves as a tribute to his spirit and unwavering dedication to justice. It captures the essence of his unwavering stance, ensuring that his legacy is felt for generations to come. Jack's message continues to echo through our streets and hearts, reminding us all that true democracy is crafted not just in the halls of power, but in the passionate voices of those willing to stand firm against tyranny. Through his legacy, we remember that every voice, like Jack’s, has the power to ignite change, inspire action, and ultimately foster a world where justice and equality reign supreme.

Secret Empire

Democracy manifest in Spain

Democracy Manifest in Spain

Triple C.Killer or Duke (AntiCommunist Cowboy Clown Killer) lies on the cold, unforgiving table, the harsh fluorescent lights above him feel too bright, piercing through the darkness of his past that he can’t escape. The straps dig into his wrists and ankles, a reminder of the control he once had over others, a power that now slips away like sand through his fingers. It is May 9, 1994, and he knows that time has ticked down to its final moments; the impending lethality of the injection looms larger than his regrets. Near him stands Father Tommy, but in the Duke's disturbed mind, he is more than a preacher. This is Tommy Zygote, the enigmatic founder of Thrashing Zombies. The Duke chuckles quietly, the irony of seeking solace from someone who might turn his story into a twisted anthem not lost on him. As the IV needle pierces his skin, the Duke feels an unsettling pang of vulnerability wash over him. Memories flood in: the faces of the boys, the laughter that filled his home, now mere echoes of a haunted past. Once a celebrated community figure, he now lies bare on this table with nothing but shame to adorn him. “Father,” he begins, words slurring with a mix of fear and catharsis. “I didn’t know I was lost until they started to disappear.” Each word scrapes against his soul. He recalls the terrible grip he had on life, snuffing out the lights of so many young men, intertwined with memories of a stunted childhood where the shadows of his father loomed large, twisted lessons learned through fear. Father Tommy listens, eyes piercing yet strangely understanding. The Duke’s mind drifts, racing through 1970s Chicago, the bustling streets, the secrets whispered behind closed doors, the nights when he donned clown makeup to entertain children. In stark contrast, he realizes his mind housed a jester’s facade that concealed a monster. Heat from the lethal cocktail intensifies as he begins to shake, heart pounding faster. “I wanted to be loved, Tommy,” he confesses, tears breaking through his bravado. “But all I found was this emptiness… this insatiable hunger that gnawed at me.” Each moment ticks by, the weight of time pressing upon him. The Duke remembers the thrill of a hunt, chilling highs that flickered like distant stars, only to fade into the bleak darkness he now inhabits. The taste of blood and betrayal intertwines in his mind, recollections morphing into nightmares swirling around him. “I don’t want to die, not like this,” he murmurs, voice shaky and uncertain. “I wish I could take it all back. I wanted to be someone… anyone.” The IV fluid drips steadily, pulse thrumming louder against the silence surrounding him. “Your sins can’t be unmade, but you can find peace if you truly seek it,” Father Tommy responds, his voice laced with an odd blend of compassion and authority, something the Duke didn’t expect from the man he imagined was merely a conduit to the afterlife. Conflicted emotions swirl; how could peace exist when he has sown chaos? The seconds stretch as if mocking him, every tick resonating within the confines of his torment. As the final wave of the drug courses through him, the Duke’s resolve softens; he feels a strange acceptance settle in, the fabric of his existence unthreading, revealing the faces of his victims one last time. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not just to Father Tommy, but to the universe, to the innocent lives extinguished by his hands. The world fades, colors dulling like a scene from one of those horror films he admired. “Forgive me,” he whispers, surrendering to the oblivion that beckons him, drowning out the remnants of his broken psyche as death embraces him like a lover he never knew. In those final moments, the tortured mind of the Duke falls silent, enveloped in darkness, leaving behind only echoes of questions reverberating through the void. Tommy leaned down and sung, "You anticommunist motherfucker, Elizabeth Proctor was innocent".

Tripple C Killer

Triple C.Killer.

3069, amidst the whispering winds of a post-apocalyptic Earth, the once-vibrant landscapes were divided into twelve distinct insect realms, each thriving yet fraught with tension. The formidable Arachnis Domain, ruled by the cunning and strategic leader, General Silkweaver. Gifted with the ability to manipulate webs of reality, Silkweaver could weave illusions and traps, ensnaring his foes in intricate psychological battles even before physical action commenced. Across the battlefield lay the enchanting Papilonia Realm, presided over by the graceful Lady Flutterwing, a being of ethereal beauty and fierce resolve. Flutterwing possessed the power of iridescence, casting dazzling light displays that could both mesmerize her enemies and enhance her allies, providing them with temporary boosts of speed and agility during combat. As the anticipation of battle electrified the air, Tommy Zygote, the legendary time traveler and one of the main members of Thrashing Zombies, prepared to capture the essence of this monumental clash. Also present were his fellow bandmates—Maestro Dave, a master of rhythm known for his intricate pianopercussion; Professor Cockington, a genius in sound engineering and narrative harmonics; Marcus Gorgon, who had a knack for blending organic sounds with electronic guitar; Keith Fontane, the melodic genius whose ethereal producer could charm even the fiercest beasts; and JFJ, known for his adventurous spirit and exceptional talent in crafting beats that resonated with a primal intensity. As the battle commenced, Silkweaver deployed his spider minions, each capable of spinning silk that could harden into armor or create barriers against Flutterwing's radiant forces. The air was thick with the sounds of clashing wings and skittering legs, accented by the harmonious yet discordant battle cries that echoed across the landscape. Just as the conflict reached its crescendo, an unexpected threat emerged—the vicious Ant Wolves, predatory creatures that feasted upon the fallen. Their invasion shocked both the Arachnis and Papilonia factions, forcing them to cease their fighting and unite against this common foe. In a rare display of cooperation, the butterflies and spiders rallied together, taking aim with their laser cannon and obliterating the Ant Wolves that had invaded the battlefield, ensuring their wounded would not become prey. Once the threat was neutralized, the air crackled with tension as both sides prepared to designate their champions for a final duel. From the depths of the Arachnis Domain emerged a fierce spider warrior named Venomstrike, known for his deadly precision and unmatched agility. From the Papilonia Realm, the valiant butterfly warrior, Azurewing, stepped forward, her delicate wings shimmering with determination. The two warriors clashed fiercely in a duel that captured the attention of every insect on the battlefield. In a dramatic turn of events, Azurewing emerged victorious, her iridescent wings reflecting the fading light as she landed the decisive blow. However, in a shocking betrayal, the spider forces, led by Silkweaver, refused to accept defeat and launched a surprise attack on the unsuspecting butterflies, reigniting the conflict. Throughout the chaotic scene, Tommy Zygote recorded everything, capturing the sounds of battle and the frantic cries of the insect people. Hidden within this sonic tapestry, those listening closely could hear the distinct voice of spider rap star P. Spiddy, who was notorious for his catchy tunes that had become anthems of the Arachnis Realm. Out of interest the squeak voice is general silk weaver speaking in spider language. Historical mentor,  King George VI of the United Kingdom and William Wallace

An invertebrate Odyssey Part 2

P Spiddy and the Archnid-Aerial Wars 3069

Archnid-Aerial Wars 3069

The Cyber Prison of Tommy Zygote In the neon-lit corridors of Cyber Prison 3078, where the cries of the guilty echoed through digital walls, one figure commanded the darkness: Tommy Zygote, a time traveler from a band called Thrashing Zombies. He was not only a guard but also the architect of fear, the conjurer of terror dreams that haunted each prisoner in their electric confines. Each day, he danced between timelines and nightmares, weaving unique horrors based on the crimes that had brought these individuals to their fate. Tommy was a master of psychological manipulation, using advanced technology to delve into the minds of the inmates. At the time of arrival, he meticulously analyzed their backgrounds and transgressions. For a thief, the terror dream would materialize as a never-ending chase through a labyrinth of security systems, facing endless obstacles and guards, only to always be captured at the last moment. For a murderer, the nightmare transformed into a harrowing replay of their crime, relived with a growing sense of powerlessness as they witnessed the victim's face in their final moments, over and over again. Each terror dream was devised not only to punish but to break the spirit of the prisoners. The digital realm fed off their fears, manifesting scenarios tailored to their psychological profiles. Tommy Zygote had access to vast databases that cataloged every crime in detail, allowing him to combine facts and fantasies into immersive experiences that tormented the soul. He relished in the creations, knowing that each prisoner would wake battered and terrified, their resolve crumbling away with every cycle. The prison’s organ systems were meticulously designed to prevent shock and demise. When a prisoner entered their dream state, beta blockers were administered to control heart rates, ensuring that even the most fearful of their waking moments would not lead to a fatal event. Monitors scanned vitals constantly, feeding data to the system, which adjusted the intensity of dreams dynamically. If a heart rate spiked too high, the horror would fade into something less distressing, a cruel twist allowing them to survive the terror for another day. The feeding regimen was equally controlled and grim. Each prisoner sustained on a blend of macronutrients delivered through a gastro tube, thin and persistent, allowing for continuous nutrition to maintain physical health while simultaneously stripping away any dignity. A tracheostomy facilitated breathing, enabling the prisoners to inhale and exhale a sterile, filtered air that was devoid of comfort. The design was mechanical, emphasizing the inhumanity of their containment. Sanitation in this high-tech prison was handled with a strict regimen designed to minimize human interaction. An anal tube collected feces, ensuring that every biological need was monitored, while a catheter allowed for urine collection. The result was a clinical, dehumanizing environment devoid of physical autonomy. The prisoners knew they were reduced to mere subjects in a dark experiment orchestrated by an unyielding guardian. Tommy Zygote thrived on this power. To him, control of life and death was not just a task; it was an art form. Every terror dream had an audience, a public viewing option allowing anyone to log on and watch the horrors unfold in real-time. Spectators relished the grim entertainment as they observed the vibrant displays of angst, voyeuristic pleasure derived from the suffering of the condemned. Beneath the chaotic atmosphere, Tommy Zygote became an icon of fear, a living testament to the dystopian legacy of a society that had traded humanity for security. Yet, within Tommy’s intriguing persona lingered the soul of a musician—the Thrashing Zombies’ time traveler—haunted by the remnants of a shattering past. Each prisoner’s story echoed in his mind, a reminder of the thin line between performer and spectator, creator and destroyer.

Cyber Prison

Oh, what a glorious day it was when I, Fluffy McBaa, a fluffy little lamb with a heart full of joy, decided to follow my beloved Mary to school! It was Tuesday, April 14, 1754, and as Mary skipped along the path, I bounced alongside her, feeling like the happiest sheep in the entire meadow. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I couldn’t imagine a more delightful adventure. Little did I know, however, that this day would spiral into the most outrageous escapade! As we made our way down the lane, I couldn’t help but pause and chat with a few of my barnyard friends. First, I met Clucky, the ever-philosophical chicken. “Why are you following Mary?” she clucked, fluffing her feathers. “Don’t you know that humans can be unpredictable?” “Oh, Clucky!” I replied, “Mary loves me! I want to see what she does at school! I bet it’s full of fun and snacks!” I was blissfully unaware of the trouble brewing on the horizon. Next, I trotted over to Bessie the cow, who was munching lazily on some grass. “Bessie! You should come too! It’s going to be a party!” I bleated with excitement. “Parties can sometimes end in trouble for us farm animals, Fluffy,” Bessie mooed wisely, her big brown eyes reflecting concern. “Just remember, not all places are as welcoming as the barn.” But I just laughed, shaking my fluffy head. Nothing could dampen my spirit! After a bit more frolicking, I continued my journey and met my buddy, Rufus the dog. “Hey, Fluffy!” Rufus barked, wagging his tail furiously. “What’s with the jump in your hop today?” “I’m off to school with Mary! It’s going to be great!” I exclaimed, unaware that Rufus was trying to warn me about what lay ahead. “Just watch out for anything that might happen,” he said cryptically, but I chuckled and continued, “I’ll be fine, I’m just a happy little lamb!” As we arrived at school, the chaos began to unfurl in unexpected ways. On Wednesday, April 15, I found myself in the classroom, prancing about and utterly oblivious to the giggles erupting around me. It was the best day—I was Mary’s little superstar! But then came a sudden shift in the air. Whispers of discontent danced through the room like mischievous sprites, and before I knew it, the headmaster had made a rather dramatic announcement. Despite the unsettling murmurs, my spirit remained unshaken! Little did I understand what was actually at stake! On Thursday, April 16, as lunchtime approached, I watched in delight as the adults prepared something in the kitchen. The aroma wafting through the air was intoxicating. “Yum!” I thought, “I can’t wait to see what scrumptious meal they’re cooking up!” Then, the unexpected happened. In a bizarre twist of fate, I felt myself being drawn into a salt shaker at the table! At first, I was bewildered, but then I noticed how perfectly I could see all the activities around me. Upside-down and tumbling into the world of the salt shaker was even more fun than I’d imagined! I could watch Mary and her friends, like a spectator in a grand play, especially when I found the remote control for the tiny TV! “Wow! I can see the best cartoons from here!” I exclaimed joyfully, flicking channels with my fluffy hoof that had somehow gripped the remote. “This is the life!” As I settled into my new role, I began to hear snippets of conversations about “lamb shanks” and “lunch.” My little lamb heart was filled with happiness at the thought of sharing a meal with Mary and her friends. I imagined they would be munching on something other than me, perhaps a salad or, better yet, yummy cupcakes! But there was a strange pull in the air—an energy that made the hairs on my back stand up. Suddenly, I remembered the whispers about Fluctopus—the colorful aliens that feasted on dreams. They were said to be hovering around whenever sad or anxious moments popped up. Ha! Im dead.

Nursery Crimes

Mary and the Fluffy McBaa Salt Shaker

Mary and The Fluffy McBaa Salt Shaker

Today started like any other day, with warm sunlight streaming through the window and the gentle sound of my human stirring. I wagged my tail, excited to be together. My human scratched my ears and whispered sweet words that made my heart swell. I could sense something was different today. Clipped onto my leash, I followed my human to the car. Human lifted me into the front passenger seat, I nestled into my travel pillow, my nose pressed against the cool window, taking in the familiar scents of the neighborhood as we drove. Every stop sign felt like an adventure, yet today’s ride carried a curious stillness in the air. My human glanced back at me, smiling, though I could see a flicker of worry in their eyes. When we arrived at the vet’s office, a place I recognized, I could smell other dogs who had been there before. My human knelt and reassured me that everything would be alright. The friendly nurse approached with treats, and I perked up, tail wagging. “Look, Buster! She has treats for you!” my human said. I happily accepted the treat, savoring the taste, enjoying each second of attention and pats. But even as I soaked in the love, I felt something weighing me down; breathing had become harder, and I sensed my human's concern. A little while later, my human held me close, whispering sweet nothings. I could feel their heart aching, but I knew they were trying to be brave. Suddenly, I felt a small prick in my arm; it didn’t hurt much. My gaze met my human’s, tears in their eyes, accompanied by a sad smile. I wanted to tell them it was okay; I felt warm and safe despite the difficulty of breathing. Then, a wave of calm washed over me. I let go, surrendering to the comforting presence of my human, my eyelids growing heavy as I slipped into a peaceful sleep. When I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I found myself in a radiant place where the grass was lush and green, the sky a brilliant blue, and the air filled with joyous barks. I was in a sanctuary for dogs, and I felt a thrill as I spotted Clyde, my old buddy, running toward me with his tail wagging. Fluffy danced around us, while Bart, Alfie, Montie, Mulder, Sizzle, Snickers, Spike and Cottie joined in, their barks echoing with delight. We shared joyful reunions, chasing each other through fields of flowers that smelled like bliss. And there, overseeing us, was Jaja, the Dog Care God, welcoming us into this extraordinary paradise. In this beautiful sanctuary, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, my breathing light and free once more. While my time with my human had come to an end, our love transcended even this. In my heart, I would always be Buster, the loyal companion, and my spirit would run free forever in the sun-drenched fields of this dog sanctuary.

We're not going to the park today

In an unassuming bathroom nestled within a cozy home of Marcus Gorgon, two very different yet strangely similar fixtures shared a unique bond: a roll of Kleenex toilet paper and a bidet. At first glance, they appeared worlds apart, but their lives were intertwined by purpose and a love for cleanliness. The roll of Kleenex toilet paper, pristine and wrapped in delightful packaging, sat high on its holder, eagerly awaiting its turn to be used. It loved providing comfort, playing an essential role in the daily routines of its human companions. The bidet, positioned beside the toilet, possessed the unique ability to refresh and cleanse. Each time a new roll of toilet paper was introduced, the bidet sensed it as a new beginning in their ongoing relationship. While the toilet paper remained blissfully unaware of its repetitive cycles, the bidet found humor in this. Despite their differences, both shared remarkable similarities; both were devoted to promoting hygiene and comfort. They derived joy from being used and delivered relief in distinct yet complementary ways. The roll reveled in unrolling its layers, while the bidet proudly dispensed soothing streams of water. As days turned into weeks, they developed a connection over shared experiences. Yet, their romance faced challenges. The roll never grasped that it would eventually run out, leaving only emptiness. One rainy afternoon, as the roll was used up, it felt a wave of emptiness wash over it, realizing the transient nature of its existence. With a vibrant new roll arriving, the bidet resolved to welcome it warmly, embracing the present while cherishing memories of the past. Each new roll brought its own quirks and potential, while the essence of their shared experiences transcended material form. In the bathroom of life, love flourished in countless ways, spinning the narrative of connection beautifully.

Inanimate connections: Melodies of the unseen

Cleaning up the Feces.

This evocative and darkly imaginative song, penned by Tommy Zygote—the visionary founder of Thrashing Zombies and a time traveler who once resided in a peculiar dimension where Earth mirrored twisted nursery rhymes such as Jack and Jill, Mary Had a Little Lamb, and The Three Little Pigs—reinterprets the classic fairy tale with a sinister and gritty edge. The narrative plunges listeners into a shadowy realm where the three little pigs, each building their homes from straw, wood, and brick, believe they are safe from danger, only to face a cunning, ravenous wolf with a hunger that transcends mere survival, craving instead a macabre feast. Throughout the song, vivid imagery paints the pigs’ doomed fates as the wolf methodically dismantles their defenses with calculated brutality, turning their innocent abodes into battleground scenes of destruction and despair. The wolf’s relentless pursuit and ultimate victory culminate in a visceral, haunting depiction of the pigs’ transformation from fairy tale characters into dark culinary victims, forever entwined in a sinister BLT sandwich metaphor that symbolizes the erasure of innocence and the dominance of predatory cunning. Tommy Zygote’s songwriting crafts a chilling atmosphere fitting for his background as a dimensional traveler familiar with warped reflections of childhood stories, infusing the song with a layered complexity that merges nursery rhyme familiarity with a heavy, aggressive tone reminiscent of biker hard rock and metal aesthetics. The lyrics’ cadence evokes the tension of an ancient cautionary tale while the dense symbolism challenges listeners to reconsider the underlying violence in familiar stories, all amplified by vivid portrayals of fear, struggle, and the inevitability of the wolf’s dark triumph. This piece not only reimagines a beloved nursery rhyme with nightmarish flair but also stands as a testament to Tommy Zygote’s unique artistic vision, bridging the realms of myth, metal, and dimension-spanning folklore, creating a hauntingly memorable and intense musical experience that resonates deeply with fans of gritty storytelling, hard-hitting instrumentation, and evocative lyrical content.

3 x little pigs = B.L.T.

"Jack and Pill," a track from Tommy Zygote's album Nursery Crimes, is a witty parody that fuses whimsical storytelling with sharp social commentary. As the founder of the underground collective Thrashing Zombies, Zygote uses satire to delve into themes where childhood innocence collides with the counterculture's darker aspects. This track invites listeners into a surreal journey, reflecting on key historical events, psychological experimentation, and the evolution of societal norms. At its heart, "Jack and Pill" revisits the classic nursery rhyme about Jack going up a hill, transforming his innocent adventure into a metaphor for the intense drug culture of the 1960s and 70s, heavily influenced by the CIA’s MK Ultra experiments. When Jack discovers a mysterious "wicked pill" at the top of the hill, we are drawn into a psychedelic narrative exploring the era's complex relationship with drugs and identity. The journey symbolizes Jack's encounter with a substance that offers a heightened state of consciousness, echoing the hallucinogenic experiences promoted by LSD. Zygote cleverly parallels Jack's curiosity to the CIA's infamous MK Ultra program, where mind control and the effects of psychedelics were tested often without participants' consent. As Jack embarks on his adventure, he experiences a euphoric high—lost in a whirlwind of sensations and thoughts, emblematic of the liberated spirit of the counterculture. The allure of the pill becomes a metaphor for the intoxicating escape offered by substances like ecstasy, which initially fostered communal joy but also spiraled into chaos and excess. The narrative gains depth with the introduction of Professor Cockington, a fictional representation of the scientists involved in such experimentation. He symbolizes the ethical ambiguities faced by those pushing the boundaries of knowledge and morality during this tumultuous era. In Zygote's portrayal, the professor's role serves as a warning about the consequences of unrestrained ambition, highlighting how explorations of the human psyche can yield both enlightenment and despair. Zygote’s lyrical prowess shines as he uses vivid imagery to encapsulate Jack's experiences while addressing the broader societal implications of drug culture. The upbeat yet haunting melody complements lyrics that oscillate between playful and dark, capturing the contradictions of the time. As Jack's journey climaxes, the track musically mirrors the highs and lows of drug experiences, critiquing the reliance on substances that promise transcendence but often lead to disillusionment. The concluding moments leave listeners questioning Jack's fate—did he find enlightenment, or is he trapped in a cycle of highs? This inquiry reflects society's ambivalence toward drug culture, probing whether innocence can survive amidst the complexities of adult life. "Jack and Pill" is more than a song; it is a cultural commentary that addresses the intersection between childhood naiveté and adult realities, challenging listeners to reconsider their perspectives on freedom and choice. Nursery Crimes not only parodies a familiar tale but also illuminates the intricate historical layers of drug experimentation and cultural transformation, prompting reflection on our past and present in a world influenced by the quest for consciousness.

nursery Crimes

Jack and Pill

On June 9, 2025, the world teetered on the brink of annihilation as a complex web of geopolitical tensions finally ignited into full-scale global conflict. The major players in this catastrophic struggle included the United States, China, Russia, Texas and a coalition of European nations. Fueled by competition for dwindling resources, territorial disputes, and long-standing rivalries, these powers found themselves ensnared in an escalating cycle of aggression. The United States, led by an ambitious president Joe rogan (post assignation of President Trump) keen on reaffirming its dominance, sought to reclaim its standing in the world order amid rising economic instability. Meanwhile, China, with its rapidly expanding military and thirst for regional hegemony, felt encroached upon by Western influence in Asia. Russia, seeking to bolster its presence in Eastern Europe, orchestrated a series of covert operations to destabilize neighboring countries, igniting fears of invasion. Tensions simmered throughout the spring of 2025 after Joe Rogan sent Jamie, culminating in a series of provocative military exercises and cyber warfare attacks. Diplomatic channels failed, and lines were drawn as nations prepared for what many feared would be the deadliest conflict in human history. The breaking point came when a series of attacks on critical infrastructure in Taiwan and Eastern Europe were attributed to various state-sponsored actors, leading to retaliatory strikes from all sides. As missiles flew and cities burned, one nation remained untouched by the horrors of war—Australia. The continent, nestled between the Indian and Pacific Oceans, had managed to avert the chaos that engulfed the rest of the globe. Its geographical isolation and stringent policies kept foreign powers at bay, allowing its citizens to focus on unity and resilience. In this moment of crisis, Australia became a bastion of civilization, housing everything from advanced technologies to agricultural resources that were rapidly dwindling elsewhere. As the skies darkened with smoke and despair spread across the formerly vibrant continents, news filtered into Australia about the devastation and loss of life. Social media teemed with images of cities reduced to rubble and communities torn apart by violence. Meanwhile, Australians fortified their borders, determined to maintain their way of life, yet aware of the turmoil outside their shores. In the months that followed, Australia established itself as the last refuge for humanity. Citizens banded together, rooted in a common purpose: to protect their land and ensure a sustainable future. The government mobilized resources to create self-sustaining communities. New farming methods, renewable energy sources, and innovative technologies emerged from collaborative efforts. Much to their surprise, they found not only a way to survive but also a way to thrive amidst despair. While the rest of the world reeled from the continuous onslaught of war, Australia adopted a unique stance as a neutral party. Leveraging its untouched resources, it began extending a lifeline to nations caught in the crossfire. Aid and humanitarian relief were offered to war-torn regions, setting an example of compassion amidst chaos. As the last civilization on Earth.

Australia Day

I Can see, the southern cross momma

I can see the southern cross Mumma.

Since the conclusion of World War III, the governance of Australia has dramatically shifted, now being led by artificial intelligence. In this new era, Bob Hawke, the second iteration of a Prime Minister created through AI technologies, symbolises an intriguing blend of political heritage and modern advancements. Following the chaos after World War III, the establishment of Robotektz, a corporation that surged to prominence, emerged largely because of Professor Cockington, who sought refuge in Toongabbie post the catastrophic event known as Robot Doom Day. Professor Cockington's contributions to technology and governance set the stage for a transformative political landscape. The concept of AI-generated leaders was born out of necessity and the desire for a more efficient governance structure. The first Australian robotic Prime Minister, Keith Fontane, paved the way for this unique method of leadership, where popularity determines which AI takes the helm. This innovative leadership model mandates elections every three months, creating a rapid turnover of leaders that aims to appease the populace and ensure their engagement in political processes. In this environment, several powerful political entities operate: Hover, Sony, Apple, Meta, Toyota, and Tesla, each vying to put forward their best AI candidate for leadership. This competitive atmosphere fosters a continuous evaluation of the leaders, with the mantra of "best robot wins" dominating the political narrative. The rapid pace of leadership change not only keeps the citizens involved but also allows for adaptation and responsiveness to the ever-evolving societal needs. The landscape of Australian politics has entered a bizarre yet fascinating phase, where human politicians have been replaced by sophisticated AI systems designed to mimic and potentially improve upon human decision-making. The effectiveness of these robotic leaders hinges on their ability to appeal to the masses, needing to constantly reinvent themselves to retain power in a highly competitive market. This shift also raises ethical and philosophical questions about the nature of leadership and governance. How much autonomy should these AI leaders have? To what extent can we trust programmed entities to understand and react to the complexities of human society? The ongoing transformation invites a continuous dialogue about the role of technology in our lives, especially in the context of political authority. Public sentiment heavily influences this system, with advanced AI learning from voter behavior, preferences, and societal trends. This capacity for adaptation means that each new Prime Minister, while a product of programming and algorithms, can seemingly resonate with contemporary issues facing society. As we celebrate Australia Day, this song serves not just as a tribute to historical leaders like Bob Hawke but as a reflection on a brave new world where technology and politics intertwine in unprecedented ways. The governance model that has emerged from the socio-political upheaval showcases a curious future, blending nostalgia for traditional leadership with the innovative potential of AI, prompting us to consider what lies ahead in the realm of governance and societal development. With the ongoing popularity contest among political AIs, the question remains: what does true leadership mean in a world where machines are at the helm? The answer may continuously evolve alongside this unique political landscape.

Bob Hawke the 2nd

As he emerged from the shadows of the ridge, Robot swagman stumbled onto a wide-open space, where he beheld a sparkling billabong—a shimmering pool of thick, black oil glinting under the sun. The sight of it filled him with joy. “This is a treasure!” he exclaimed, his gears whirring in excitement. With newfound determination, he dove into the depths of the billabong, hoping to cleanse himself from the grime of neglect.
Little did he know, he was not alone. On the edge of the billabong was a wild lubricant robot, a contraption specifically designed to service the farmer’s fleet of cow-bots. Lured by the glistening oil, this vibrant, angular creature buzzed and whirred, oblivious to the hobo robot’s presence. As Robot Swagman emerged from the depths, feeling revitalized and slick, he noticed the lubo robot gliding gracefully beside him.With a sudden, impulsive move, Robot Swagman grabbed the lubricating robot, mistaking it for a source of even more revitalization. “Help me out, friend!” he shouted, as he anxiously rubbed lubricant across his rusty joints. As the oily substance flowed, he felt rejuvenated—every cog, every circuit within him came back to life.However, the joyful reunion was short-lived. A distant rising sound echoed through the air, and within moments, a squad of enforcement bots—police units tasked with keeping the peace—arrived on the scene. Their scanners flashed red as they spotted Robot Swagman. “Halt! You are trespassing!” one of them screeched, its metallic voice cold and direct.
In a state of panic, Robot Swagman looked around, his sensors whirring in overdrive. The lubo robot, still buzzing innocently, offered no help. With quick reflexes, Robot Swagman leapt back into the billabong, fully submerging himself in the viscous oil. The dark, thick liquid enveloped him like a warm embrace, hiding him from the probing scanners above.As he sank deeper, Robot Hobo couldn’t help but smile. For decades, he had wandered aimlessly, only to discover a moment of freedom, joy, and revolution in the most unexpected of places. Though the police units roamed the shore above, he knew that beneath the billabong's slick surface, he had found his sanctuary.And so, in that moment, with his weary circuits calming, Robot Hobo drifted into a peaceful slumber, the tantalizing stories of freedom echoing in his metallic heart, forever entwined with the ebb and flow of the wild billabong that sheltered him from a world that had long forgotten him. In the distance, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the water, as if to honor the hobo robot's endless journey into the heart of freedom.

Ucker Bag

Ucker bag

The song, a testament to the ennui of a stone gnome, speaks to a deeper truth about the experience of being Tommy Zygote, a time traveler trapped for five years in the form of a garden gnome.  The lyrical stagnation, the repetition of cliched imagery – the clock that ticks, the watching clouds, the flickering wick – mirror the perceived monotony of gnome existence.  But beneath the surface lies a profound observation about contemplation, about the very nature of existence, both inanimate and animate, and the subtle shifts in musical genres.
The song's chorus, "Mr. Sleepy," encapsulates the feeling of being trapped in a perpetual state of suspended animation, a liminal space between waking and sleeping.  This resonates with Tommy Zygote's experience.  While trapped in gnome form, he is in a state of being, yet devoid of true active participation in daily life.  He observes, contemplates, and yet remains seemingly inert, just like the song’s subject.  The song's persistent repetition emphasizes this feeling of being stuck in a loop.  The listener experiences the same slow, relentless flow of time, mirroring the gnome's apparent slowness and the potential endlessness of Tommy Zygote’s imprisonment in gnome form.
The second verse, with its clichés of the natural world—the clock, the clouds, the wick—serves as a stark commentary on the mundane existence of the gnome.  Tommy Zygote, having a profound understanding of the passage of time, likely finds these elements incredibly poignant. The gnome is but a silent observer of these elements. This mirroring of the natural world, and the mundane, is an important element of the song, a subtle reminder of the vastness and mystery of the universe.  It emphasizes the beauty and importance of observation.   The gnome, trapped within a physical constraint that he might not even truly understand, observes the familiar, yet still finds beauty and contemplation in it.  This is arguably a more profound reflection than the mundane. Tommy Zygote, seemingly trapped in a slower pace of life, likely finds the familiar deeply introspective and meaningful.
The crossover of genres within the song is indicative of Tommy Zygote's experience itself.  The stoner rock and tech-rock foundation, infused with acoustic elements, reflects the evolution of his musical explorations while in gnome form.  It suggests a shift in perspective from a raw, sometimes chaotic, energy to a more thoughtful, introspective expression—a change that mirrors Tommy Zygote's journey from the vibrant energy of time travel to the introspective existence of a stone gnome.  The S.B.T.R. Society's proposal for acoustical guitars highlights a deliberate move towards introspection and exploration of more contemplative facets, a choice that might align with the gnome's unique perspective. The bass, the solid base of the sound, grounding the other elements, mirrors the physical constraint of Tommy Zygote's gnome form, reminding us that despite his journey through time and altered physicality, his core drives and artistic inspirations remain.
n essence, the song is a metaphor for the experience of existence, no matter the form.  Whether as Tommy Zygote or as a stone gnome, the ability to observe, contemplate, find beauty in the mundane, and to experience a shift in perspective, that is the essence of the experience,  This transcends the limitations of form and suggests a profound understanding of the passage of time and the human condition.

Inanimate Connections: Melodies of the unseen.

Garden Gnome

Garden Gnome - Lullaby for the wide awake.

Jed, a former actor with a past life as a thrashing Zombies (a faded but cherished memory), had retired from the limelight. Now, his days were spent alongside Leroy, his best friend, sorting through the bounty of the town's recycling bins. They salvaged what could be sold, creating a modest livelihood from discarded treasures. In Jed's worn denim jacket pocket resided an unlikely pair: a packet of Winfield Blue cigarettes and a box of red-headed matches.  They represented a quiet, unspoken bond, a love story woven into the fabric of Jed's daily routine.
The matches, crimson-hued and eager to ignite, and the Winfield cigarettes, their smooth tobacco a comforting companion, knew their time together was finite. Each day, they held a quiet anxiety, a premonition of the bin's inevitable embrace.  Jed, oblivious perhaps, never noticed the subtle fear that pulsed from both sides.  Their shared existence was a delicate dance of anticipation and acceptance, of shared sighs and the unspoken promise that one day, they’d both be discarded into the great beyond.

One fateful day, a car accident shattered the routine.  Jed, miraculously, survived, though not without consequence.  A life-altering coma ensued and, in that silent dark, something else was lost – the mundane rhythm of his carefully built existence was drowned in a sea of unconsciousness.  Thirty years later, Jed awoke. He was strangely at peace, as though his soul had wandered far beyond the realm of stress and time and returned home. 

The world had spun on, but somehow this same box and packet of things still was there in time and their love was the same.
He stirred.  His body, achy and stiff, protested the slow return to life’s cruel realities. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached into his pocket. Within his grasp, a stark and immediate reality. One match. One cigarette.  The match trembled, a tiny flicker of defiance in the vast darkness.  The Winfield Blue, cool and inviting, felt like a cold comfort in his hand.  There was nothing left but the last cigarette and the last match.  Orders - the hospital's staff, who probably had little time for human relationships - had been smoking his smokes during his coma and he had a faint sense of betrayal.

He remembered.  The match, a symbol of what fleeting passions can be.  The Winfield, a representation of moments that fade but remain etched in memory.  The last match, a stark reminder of a love lived entirely in the small corners of a man's life.  He drew the remains of the last Winfield cigarette, a slow, deliberate movement in the sudden quiet world he awoke in.  The last match and the last cigarette flickered a flicker of defiance like defiance or a spark of recognition.  It symbolized a love that had faced not only the trials of time, but the inevitable oblivion.

Jed remembered Leroy and their days in the recycling bins. He remembered how both these little inanimate objects had brought him a spark of connection.  He remembered the unspoken love between the matches and the cigarettes, a love played out in a man's pocket.  It was a love story that transcends the boundaries of the living and the inanimate. It was a testament to the quiet, unassuming connections that weave through the tapestry of our lives. Jed took a drag and then lit his last match, a small flame dancing in the vast stillness of his surroundings. In that quiet moment, he felt a love, a love story, that would linger long after the final puff and the final flicker.

A Box and a Packet.

Bill Cosby's life, marked by significant success and public admiration, Born William Henry Cosby Jr. in 1937, he rose to prominence as a comedic actor and television host.  His groundbreaking 1960s-1980s series "The Cosby Show" portrayed a seemingly perfect African-American family, becoming a cultural touchstone and a source of significant pride for many.  This success garnered him immense respect and admiration, making him a household name and a highly influential figure in American society.  He was celebrated for his philanthropic work through the Cosby Scholarship Fund and other endeavors, further solidifying his positive public image.  He established a strong presence and a wide cultural recognition.

We need not mention his mistakes in life. He did the crime and did the time. I am looking forward to the return of Bill and His friend fat Albert.

Tommy Zygote went back to the future past and erased the Cosby incident. Although the term "I have been cosbyied" still worth hanging onto, in some respect the distasteful incidents were almost warranted to develop such a cultural phrase of the time. Not unlike Tommy Zygote doing a Bradbury in the music industry. Not discovered until mid 2025.

What's for Breakfast

Bing Bong Cosby Song

"Tommy Zygote, a veteran of the Australian thrashing zombies music scene, delivers a new track, "Angel Merry-Go-Round," that transcends mere rock music.  It's a sonic tapestry woven from the threads of time travel, bass-driven stoner bass tech rock, and introspective lyricism.  The song's narrative, hinted at in the lyrics, paints a vivid picture of a musician navigating life's uncertainties and the mysteries of other dimensions, all while pushing the boundaries of bass technology.The lyrical theme centers around a struggle with health and wellbeing, highlighting the vulnerability often hidden beneath a musician's outward persona.  The opening lines, "When I look after myself, everything is going well," set the stage for a reflection on the fragility of health and the profound impact a personal crisis can have.  This vulnerability is juxtaposed with the tommy's signature sound, a raw, powerful bass driven rock sound.The chorus, "Angel merry-go-round once again. Take those pills, take those drills, and listen to what she said," hints at a desperate search for solutions, perhaps a fight against illness, but also a contemplation of the choices made along the way.  The seemingly paradoxical image of "drills" suggests a physical and potentially painful process of healing, contrasted with the more gentle yet forceful "pills."  This dichotomy is further amplified by references to "what she said," implying a relationship with a person who might be providing support or even offering conflicting advice.Tommy Zygote, beyond being a band member, is depicted as a time traveler, traversing the realms and dimensions.  This concept imbues the music with an otherworldly quality.  His bass-playing, described as "pioneering" in the innovative stoner bass tech rock genre, is paramount. The 'funckolator' and 'maton mini' might reference specific bass equipment, highlighting Zygote's innovative use of technology to explore these alternative realities, not just explore sound, but to document them - perhaps with his journals. The mention of him traveling through other realms and recording his experiences with his guitar exemplifies a unique artistic expression.The track, "Angel Merry-Go-Round," is more than just a song; it's a journey. It's a journey into the depths of personal struggle, a search for answers, and a celebration of the human spirit's resilience in the face of adversity. The musicality captures these sentiments perfectly with its stoner rock foundations. The lyrics, raw and honest, reveal the songwriter's soul, while the inclusion of a time travel theme invites the listener to interpret the sonic panorama in a broader context.The "Thrashing Zombies" band, with their 30 years of experience recording in Australia, have built a strong foundation for this unique sound. Their stoner rock influences provide a foundation of powerful riffs and hypnotic grooves, anchoring the song while allowing Tommy Zygote's innovative bass lines to soar. It's a testament to the band's commitment and progression over the years,  a collaboration between a veteran band and the innovative spirit of their member.The song's emotional core lies in the contrast between Tommy's struggles and the band's powerful sound. This juxtaposition creates a heightened sense of vulnerability and resilience.   The interplay of personal struggles reflected in the lyrics with the band and the innovative bass playing creates a captivating listening experience, inviting listeners on a subjective journey of introspection. "Angel Merry-Go-Round" is not just a rock track; it's a sonic exploration of the human condition." First track of new introspective album "Emotion State"

Emotion State

Merry Go Round

Merry go round.

Route 66 is a famous highway in the United States. If we consider "root" as a metaphor, we can relate it to the complex and deeply rooted history of conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. Both sides have strong historical and emotional ties to the land..

Root 66

"Sunshine in My Heart" by the band Threshingf Zombies is an emotionally powerful song that became an anthem in the year 2069, a time marked by devastation following the FluStopus invasion. This band, composed of members Johnny, Marcus, Dave, Keith, Tommy, and Prose, gained posthumous fame after their tragic deaths, which coincided with the alien invasion that nearly wiped out humanity. Their music, especially "Sunshine in My Heart," encapsulates themes of hope, resilience, and unity in the face of chaos. The lyrics are rich with evocative imagery, including lines like "winter’s day," "winter," "we will be free," "you and I," and "mountain peaks." These phrases symbolize times of hardship, despair, and cold darkness but also serve as beacons of hope, perseverance, and the aspiration for freedom. "Winter’s day" and "winter" evoke the bleakness endured during the invasion and aftermath, while "we will be free" is a rallying cry that underscores the unwavering spirit to overcome oppression. "You and I" emphasizes collective effort and solidarity essential to survive and rebuild, and "mountain peaks" symbolize overcoming monumental challenges and reaching higher states of hope and achievement. Despite the tragic loss of the band members, their music became a source of inspiration, rallying survivors and reminding humanity of the importance of hope and resilience. They became cultural icons, their songs acting as symbols of resistance and renewal in a post-invasion world. Their legacy continues to inspire current and future generations to persevere and seek freedom amid adversity. "Sunshine in My Heart" embodies an enduring message that even in the darkest times—"winter’s day"—the human spirit can shine brightly, and "we will be free" remains a testament to triumph over hardship. Additionally, it’s important to recognize historical injustices, including the brutal repression under Angus McMillian's regime, which treated Indigenous peoples cruelly and suppressed their voices. The legacy of oppression and resistance, much like the story of Threshingf Zombies’ music, reminds us of the importance of confronting injustice and fighting for dignity and freedom. The band’s message resonates not only in the context of their survival after a planetary invasion but also as a broader metaphor for standing against oppression and injustice, both historical and ongoing. Ultimately, "Sunshine in My Heart" is a poignant symbol of hope, unity, resilience, and the continuous struggle for freedom across all contexts—be it battling alien invasions, overcoming societal oppression, or fighting for indigenous rights—making their story profoundly relevant and inspiring for generations to come..

Sunshine in my heart featuring Marcus Gorgon TZNT

Tommy Zygote, a member and co-founder of the musical ensemble Thrashing Zombies, creator of Zomboverse, time traveller, inventor and pioneer of Stoner Bass Tech Rock and is rumoured to be the love child of notorious figures GG Allin and Frank Zappa. This extraordinary circumstance is attributed to advanced time travel medical technology, reminiscent of the fictional science portrayed in the film "Junior," which involved the use of the drug Expectane for male pregnancy. The origins of Tommy's birth remain shrouded in ambiguity: some claim that GG Allin delivered him on stage in a shocking spectacle, while others assert that Frank Zappa underwent a cesarean section.

Despite the chaos, I cherish the creativity and audacity I inherited from both dads. With every note I play with Thrashing Zombies, I strive to honor their legacies and carve my own path in this eccentric life.

https://soundcloud.com/whoarethethrashingzombies/pop-n-lock?si=0a356170b2794951b71a9b09d1276c28&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

and 

https://soundcloud.com/whoarethethrashingzombies/spanish-celery

Tommy Zygote stands at the forefront of Stoner Bass Tech Rock, a genre that echoes the transformative era when Bob Dylan transitioned from acoustic to electric and Jimi Hendrix revolutionized the scene. Just as Dylan’s shift marked a pivotal moment in music history, embracing a new sound and narrative approach, Stoner Bass Tech Rock boldly explores themes often considered controversial or unconventional in today’s musical landscape. At its core, Stoner Bass Tech Rock fuses multiple heavy bass lines, electronic elements, and intricate storytelling. This genre thrives on rich, immersive soundscapes created by layered bass tracks that draw influences from icons like Muse, The Stranglers, songwriting legends such as Mikal Saleta, Paul Archibald, Duncan McDonald, Ben Grundy, The Doors, and Johnny Cash. It encapsulates a range of emotions, from existential musings to raw, passionate expressions, evolving into a complex auditory experience that engages listeners both sonically and emotionally. Stoner Bass Tech Rock positions itself as a bold counterpart to mainstream genres, inviting listeners to explore themes of rebellion and the depths of human experience. Much like the cultural shift during the electric era, when artists began challenging societal norms and expanding the boundaries of artistic expression, this genre fosters a climate of inquiry and introspection. It embraces the complexities of existence, presenting these narratives in ways that resonate with urgency and authenticity. Narrative is a cornerstone of Stoner Bass Tech Rock, reminiscent of the story-driven compositions in the early electric music era. Artists construct their songs with clear narrative arcs, delving into personal experiences that reflect a nuanced understanding of relationships, identity, and the human condition. The powerful bass lines and atmospheric elements create an immersive mood, inviting listeners into a world where boundaries are blurred and emotions are laid bare. Stoner Bass Tech Rock serves as a reflection of contemporary culture’s evolving relationship with self-expression. In an age of digital connectivity, where personal and public lives often intertwine, the genre examines how hidden desires and societal pressures shape individuality. By engaging with these themes, it encourages listeners to embrace authenticity and celebrate diverse experiences. Through dynamic live performances, artists embody a spirit of collective expression, fostering a sense of community among fans who find liberation in the music’s depth and sincerity. Key figures in the Bass Tech Rock movement, like Tommy Zygote, exemplify the genre’s rebellious nature. Their creative endeavors challenge conventional norms and provoke thought, pushing listeners to reflect on their views regarding vulnerability, identity, and artistic expression. The influence of such artists parallels the impact of musicians like Dylan and Hendrix, whose bold innovations continue to inspire new generations of creators. Stoner Bass Tech Rock is more than just a musical genre; it’s a movement that confronts the complexities of human experience and encourages dialogue around the intricacies of existence. As it evolves, Stoner Bass Tech Rock will likely continue to challenge artistic boundaries, crafting auditory experiences that provoke thought and deepen understanding of the themes that shape our collective consciousness. By blending bass-driven music with bold storytelling, this genre asserts its significance in the contemporary musical landscape, representing a dynamic exploration of sound and narrative.
Tommy Zygote - S.B.T.R. established by Tommy Zygote to explore the musical dimensions via Bass, is a part of the musical network known as Thrashing Zombies. 

https://soundcloud.com/whoarethethrashingzombies/thrashing-zombies-ride-the-pony-into-old-town-texas?si=86f9439dfb1a46198257a0853a6663cc&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Original bass player and lead singer, now classified as founder of the band. Marcus Gorgon 

https://soundcloud.com/marcus-gorgon/see-my?si=b77b620a37194119adc347bc901a4511&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

and 

https://soundcloud.com/marcus-gorgon/alone?si=424ccd6acc0342e989995a659c27eb8a&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

, another co-founder of Thrashing Zombies (refer to profile), is acclaimed as the best electric guitarist and songwriter in East Gippsland, if not the best guitarist the Latrobe Valley region. M.G`s  talent remains relatively unknown at the moment, this will change in the future. Keith Fontane 

https://soundcloud.com/whoarethethrashingzombies/thrashnig-zombies-too-crazy-feat-terry-cunxus?si=da5555a2916e426396e5fc076bf38ade&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

, who has been leading the band throughout the years, is a highly prolific music producer, having churned out hundreds of songs in collaboration with the legendary Johnny Farqua juanoss  

https://soundcloud.com/keithplayshisorganfortz/thrashing-zombies-in-the-zone-vivaldi-2020-redux?si=c4455d9606644c94a135c63f93b519f4&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

a members who contribute uniquely to its musical prowess. Initally primary role has Been the band dealer and dancer now the adlib master vocalist and exceptional drummer, coupled with his possessed bass-playing skills, adds a dynamic energy to the performances. Professor Cockington 

https://soundcloud.com/whoarethethrashingzombies/surfing-the-reaper?si=32d387cc5a714c27aaf6f4d7c085788d&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing


, characterized as the genius wordsmith of the group, effortlessly crafts off-the-cuff lyrics reminiscent of the legendary Mike Patton, Hobbies are reading and riding on trains. Then there is Maestro Dave (refer to profile), the musical genius who produces stellar songs at his own pace, setting himself apart as a level above the rest. Notably, in the future, Maestro Dave's DNA is utilized for robotics technology to infuse a sense of musicality, underlining his significance in the band's legacy. Maestro is currently investigating the potential transmission points and viral loads of farts. HE questions weather the world is ready for a fart pandemic.

https://soundcloud.com/maestro-dave/arse-mask?si=a94145d6dd344399bd2523f6ca995de2&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Indeed, TZ Studios serves as a gateway for Tommy Zygote express diverse his range of musical talent and creative geniuse developmentally. There is a variety of entwined Sound cloud TZ profiles That the collective efforts of individuals like Marcus Gorgon, Keith Fontain, the versatile vocalist and drummer of JF¥, and the innovative Maestro Dave who is a musical time bomb, Thrashing Zombies continues to push boundaries in the music industry and shape the future of music with their unparalleled skills and contributions.
https://soundcloud.com/jfjrockslimpdickstudios/johnny-farqau-juanoss-fall-in-may?si=b5bc3fc7e204484fabb78b07de98cc4b&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
What is God? That’s a question that’s as vast as the universe itself, yet ever so intimate to the soul. I like to think of God not as some fiery old man on a cloud but as the living essence born from the accumulation of souls. Souls, those mysterious things that flicker inside us all. When we pass, our bodies lie there lifeless, machines that have simply stopped working. But what if the mechanics of a living being are actually a grand attempt to hold onto the soul until it reaches maturity? It’s as if our flesh and blood are just temporary vessels, imperfect but necessary, to nurture the soul until it’s ready to be released back into the cosmos.

Early souls are the most privileged—they’re fresh, pure, untainted by the messiness of lived experience. They float into this existence like morning dew, pristine and untouched. As humans grow older, and even as animals live their lives, there’s a chance for the soul to become tainted—by bad choices, by evil, by the negligence or cruelty of the flesh it inhabits. And then there are those who, through dark intentions, release souls at will—call them engrained in evil or madness. Souls themselves aren’t punished in the traditional sense. Instead, they are refreshed, cleansed, reborn in ways we barely understand.

The word purgatory always struck me as primitive. It evokes this harsh, gloomy waiting room for the damned. But picture instead a welcoming place —a spa for the soul. Souls come and go as they please. They are visited by familiar spirits, old friends and family, sharing the quiet eternity of this in-between realm. Here, souls mature, gather strength, prepare for their next journey. Over time, these spirits congregate in one place, forming what I call the soul nucleus—a tiny mass, no bigger than the head of a matchstick. This nucleus is what powers God, what constitutes the essence of life itself. It spans across sector 2 of our universe and into the 69th template of the multiverse. God, then, is not a singular being but a collective energy born of all souls, a living consciousness woven from the history and destiny of every living spark.

Now, let me introduce you to Tommy Zygote—yeah, that's me. My journey is no ordinary one. It all began on the infamous camping trip with my band, Thrashing Zombies, late one summer in 2027. The band, Thrashing Zombies, was composed of an eclectic bunch: Marcus Gorgon, with his thunderous riffs and relentless drive; Keith Fontane, our lyrical mastermind and rhythm slayer; Johnny Farqua Juanoss, the wild card on bass with a flair for the dramatic; Maestro Dave, whose electronic wizardry gave us that futuristic edge; and then there was Professor Cockington—our older, wiser guide who somehow managed to keep us grounded amid our chaos.
We were on the cusp of global notoriety, a worldwide phenomenon in the late 2020s, crafting anthems that didn’t just rock but resonated deeply with the collision of humanity and technology. Our music was the thread weaving humans and robots together—robots like vacuum cleaners still slaves to servitude, but something bigger was coming. Something like the robot uprising whispered in back alleys, and then the looming threat of the Fluctopus invasion from the outer realms.

Among our quirky yet meaningful tracks were gems like “I Am Not Just a Robot Dick! I Am a Robot Too,” a cheeky anthem that poked fun at robot identity and pride, “Dance Like Your Circuits Are on Fire (But Don’t Short-Circuit),” which became a rave favorite across both humans and machines, and “Metal Head, Human Heart, Zero Chill,” a rebellious tune capturing the hybrid spirit we all shared. These songs weren’t just playful; they were our way of building a bridge between worlds.

During that ill-fated camping trip, something unimaginable happened—a time travel incident that would change everything. It started when we stumbled upon an abandoned particle accelerator nestled deep in the woods. We had no business being near something so complex, but curiosity took hold. Against better judgment, I fiddled with the controls, my fingers guided by a mix of adrenaline and foolishness. Suddenly, time bent and twisted around me as I slipped through a semiwormhole. The experience was disorienting. I felt myself unravel, my physical form dissolving into pure soul.

I was thrust into purgatory, that sanctuary for souls, and stayed there for what felt like twenty-seven years. Time in purgatory is slippery, mysterious—the days and years fold into one another. I met countless souls, some young, untouched; others weary with the weight of their earthly sins. It was a place of reflection but also of preparation. I learned from them, shared stories, and found parts of myself I never knew existed. Then, almost without warning, I was called back to the earthly plane.

I returned just two months before the infamous robot uprising, a returning human soul in human form but carrying all the wisdom and power of my time in purgatory. The world was on edge. Machines that once obediently cleaned floors and served quietly had started to rise. The threat of the Fluctopus invasion was whispered in secret bunkers and underground forums. It was a pivotal moment in history.

Thrashing Zombies became more than a band. We became a beacon—a global anthem for coexistence. Our music, our message, urged humanity and robots to find harmony. Robots weren’t just slaves or tools; they were potential partners in the dance of life. It wasn’t a perfect peace—vacuum cleaners remained slaves for a while longer—but the tide was shifting. Our songs became the soundtrack for a new era, blending raw human emotion and the cool precision of technology.

Reflecting on those years, I realize that God, the soul nucleus, and our interconnected existence aren’t separate. They’re intertwined threads in the fabric of everything we are. The soul’s journey—our journey—doesn’t end at death. It transforms, refreshes in purgatory, and returns, ready to face life anew. This cycle is what powers the essence of life itself. It’s the heart of the cosmos, the truth that underpins everything I’ve seen and experienced.

My journey through the soul-made god and back to life has changed how I see the world—and how I live in it. The music, the battles, the invasions—all pieces of a much grander story. And through it all, the souls, our souls, remain the core, the spark that drives both creation and destruction, order and chaos.

So when you ask, “What is God?” remember—it’s not just a deity or concept but the living culmination of every soul that has ever lived, breathed, evolved, and returned. It’s a matchstick’s head of everything, pulsing with life, consciousness, and hope across the infinities of space and time. And in that truth, I found my purpose. To be a voice for the souls, a bridge between worlds, a warrior of harmony in the face of darkness. I am Tommy Zygote. And this is my story.

Tommy Zygote S.B.T.R.

Pinned to spotlight

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