It’s 3AM: Do you know where your Pop is? Transmitting Till the World Ends…

Daddy I’m so sorry, I’m so s-s-sorry yeah… Pop just likes to party – with the shadows in the lair #bangbang

3am – do you know where your Pop is? Chances are, if you are a fiend – like so many of us are #dontjudgemepopsconflictfree – your good ol’ grand wonderful Pop was sharing a campfire tale of epic curfew-breaking proportions to the digital world. Three is a powerful number, and this morning when the clock struck thine: Britney dropped a bomb, while GaGa posted on CP time…

Spearheading GaGavision…

Forty. Minutes. #days Later. #punctuality #lentensacrifice


Knock, knock: guess who’s baaaack #inblack Curtains: down; world: upside down – let’s get it Y2K in this piece


On one side of the spectrum Britney moves to the beast of her own burden – the endless dance. A zephyred zombie making moves toward the light from the sweltering subterranean night… as she gaits across her own made graveyard, once again facing televised transgressions of her bombastic past, again again foxtrotting till the world – or girl – ends… While splendidly isolated on the other side of said spectral scape, GaGa faces the future world – her digital domain – from behind the lifted veil of transmitted transcendence…

Oh, would you look at that…

… and so we arrive full circle from whence we began… Crucifix in hand… Paws on the Pulpit for the Regenesis of Man… #onesequinatatime


Watch This Space: From Britney Spears to Madam Spearheaded Stallion… Pop will always be a slave for you, but nonetheless a slave in perfect view #runtransmitthat #pawsuptilltheapopcalypse

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