2008: Wovoka was right

dear reader,

if you feel as though you have survived a series of un-survive-able experiences, and have come through them all with an astonishing sense that you are living within a surrealist opera with no ticket price, please allow me to extend a heartfelt greeting to you as a co-occupant of the bizarre survival raft we seem to be sharing.

we will have plenty of time, it seems to me, to swap stories and snaques, but for the moment I must set aside formalities to impress upon you the importance of shared vigilance against the many demons which lurk in the dark waters below us.

these demons come after we humans in a diverse array of guises, making them difficult to spot, but they seem to enjoy costuming themselves as vendors of liquor, pornography, and mortgages.

for this reason, please do not take any offense whatsoever if you should find yourself locked out of the Snaque Shaque ration box for failing to give these mofos the boot the moment they try to slime their way into our little tempest-tossed vessel.

your personal views on reality are your business, but the Nunne'hi and their associates will always take top priority as Snaque Shaque patrons, whether they are visible or not. so, please do not cry, or derisively call me a fairy-believer, when I tell you that the Snaque Shaque has no more rations for you because you let past rations get defiled when they could have fed the benevolent entities who snatched me from Babylon's stinky jaws.

let's prevent that ugly reality from coming to pass, and keep the good ship Porcupine Molly riding steady spaghetti by making sure that only the righteous get rides. and snaques.

your friend,
Nantoka