The Arts of The Faceless Masses are Much Like The Sewer Sludge of NYC.
There runs under the streets of ‘The City that never sleeps’ a vast array of tunnels to carry its excrement away. Some is dried into huge monolith blocks to be barged out into the ocean not so far away, the greater is ‘treated’ sent to the waters surrounding the city, sludging where The Benevolent Water Spirits used live and Play.
Is it any wonder, the death and decay, that city stench never goes away? Think not The Spirits of The Good would ever stay, in waters thick as molasses on a wintry January day. So it is The Spirit of The City feeds off the sludge perpetuating The Faceless Masses of Urban Decay.
The Elites tell you their shit don’t stink, ne’er they drink the water though, of it, The Faceless Masses fish, wash and drink.
The same is true of the works of the poet, artist, writer, musician that muse from The Faceless Masses of Urban Decay, their own sludge they give back to them to drink. Oh, no, do not dare think for a moment this is the poets, writers, artists, musicians drink for them ‘tis only the finest from the government tit do they see fit to drink. The system, self-perpetuating, deeper, darker (grows The Spirits of Urban Waters) for The Faceless Masses to sink as they drink the poison drink from the creatives sink.
I ask you for a moment to pause, in this moment Think, what if The Faceless Masses were given another drink? To drink deep of The UnCommon Common Mans you-do-wells, if the poets, artists, writers, musicians mused on The UnCommon Common Man instead of what comes from the government tit, the sludge waters that feed the Malevolent Spirits (poet, artist, writer, musician that muse from The Faceless Masses of Urban Decay) to cast upon The Faceless Masses evils dreadful cursing spells.