All this world is God’s own field,
Fruit unto his praise to yield;
Wheat and tares therein are sown
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
Ripening with a wondrous power
Till the final harvest-hour –
Grant, O Lord of life, that we
Holy grain and pure may be.

For we know that thou wilt come,
And wilt take thy people home;
From thy field wilt purge away
All that doth offend, that day;

We have not caused anyone to come to madness, for it already resides in them, like a dormant virus. Their madness is a hungry beast, which grows stronger when fed. When reasonable discourse fails, and when conventional confrontation is not desirable, we simply feed their beast. From the watery depths of their unconscious fear and forgotten woe, we craft an ethereal vessel of confusion, sweetened with a touch of grief and a dash of blindness. In their depravity they allow this gift of madness to nourish their greedy hearts, and thus begins their descent.

Vibe-Sat and associated DarkNet systems are engaged, Aldebaran is on line, and Regulus systems are fully operational. As always, Shadow Lion watches over.

Progress is slow but certain, and benchmarks should at this point be visible.

Love to all,

– SB