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one morning The universe swirled around dangerously and fierce, like wine rushing through the esophagus of a serpent eating it's own tale, stacked on the backs of turtle shells. Feet slid on bananna peels clear across the room. Wool clouds where violet, pink and crimson.... bobbing like carrots fastened with twine. The theory of relativity broke down like an old engine on rusty tracks, and banged it's way through past the letter "Z", and started poking around. Right went left, horrizontal went sideways... night turned to day... and i peered out at the dawning of this strange and familiar dream, with crooked teeth, and fingers stained in india ink. we the modified hold that we are a distinct subcultural group with an established history and way of life. we take part in these activities and perform these body modifications for the betterment of ourselves, of our peers, and of the world in general. Piercing, tattoos, scarification, and other modifications are active political protest and lead to positive cultural reform. we demand the right to treat our bodies as our own, and we strongly urge all to do the same.