 Let's touch Antenny in the Madhouse. Let's touch Antenny in the Madhouse. Beneath the throes of a dying world and the growing drums of war. Beneath the din of the cannibal carons and the COVID culture wars and the miserable late night comedians pushing jokes out through oceans of pain. Let's touch Antenny in the Madhouse where there are more empty homes than homeless and more jails than universities, where there is so little scarcity that we have to artificially create it and so much excess that we ship our garbage overseas, where the news is more worried about a French submarine deal than Yemeni kids starving under Lockheed Martin bomb weather, where they harvest our digital information and push for us all to get digital identifications while piling used fast food packaging on top of any part of us that is real, where future generations, if there are future generations, will scarce believe that there were once whales. Let's touch Antenny in the Madhouse and remind one another of our uncorrupted essence. Let's kneel together, foreheads touching beneath the gunfire of ecocidal advertisements and Pentagon prayers, of screaming red children and oceans of oil and be intimate and be infants and press into that point of primal innocence within each other and let our resistances dissolve to being at one, to being at one with each other and to being at one with the whole bloody, screaming, sexy, sacred mess.