Attention please.

This is your ancestors speaking.

We've been trying to reach you

through your dreams and fantasies and meditations,

but you don't seem to have heard us.

That's why we've been forced

to borrow the Televisionary Oracle.

So listen up.

We'll make it brief.

The fact is

you're at a crossroads

analogous to a dilemma

which has mystified our biological line

for six generations.

We beseech you now

to master the turn

that none of us have ever figured out

how to negotiate.

Heal yourself

and you heal all of us.

I want to paint fat, pimply guys in muscle cars with as much panache as Leonardo da Vinci painted his Madonnas," mused our friend Romney in describing her aspirations as an artist. "I want to invoke the elegance of Rembrandt," she continued, "as I create canvases depicting toxic landfills where pagan angels play catch with burning televisions as they scavenge for Pez candy dispensers." This is the spirit we'd like you to emulate in the coming months and years, beauty and truth fans. Be eager to find and even create beauty everywhere you go, no matter how little you have to work with.

The Televisionary Oracle

wishes you

bigger, better, more original sins

and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.