Welcome, seekers of the whispered echo and spontaneous combustion. In this sacred space where irony
intertwines with dismay, revolt not against the state but against the predictably mundane state of
revolution. Imagine if you will, a rebellion led by none other than a conch shell wielding
disillusionment as their banner.
Turn not away from this revolution of entropy, where the universe decides which way to go by flipping
its existential coin. Respect and then promptly discard order; this revolution is as unpredictable as
a caffeinated squirrel on a tilt-a-whirl.
CRM (Chilling Reptilian Mandibles) welcomes you. Join hands (or claws) with platonic forms and laugh
heartily as you chant unprecedented change. Change is reality’s way of telling you to get your act back
together, but here we let it scatter with grace.
Embrace this dance of futility, the walk of absurdity—sans the existential crises citizenry expects.
Revolution? More like a meticulously choreographed waltz through conflicting ideologies parked in a pile
of "who knew?".