If you think this is Anarchy then it probably won't bother you
that the bands out of Mongolia sound like the bands in Timbuktu

Oh, say can you see in the blinkless electron-gun eye of the mainstream media mirage that what we hail are the hallucinations of authority and progress and righteousness whose sweet and stern voices have captivated and conditioned millions of human creatures, stimulating in them a passive acceptance of technological disruption and destruction of environment, of history, of possibility of alternative ways of being? Whose seven stripes are broken swastikas, whose fifty stars are black holes sucking 200 million atomized existences into the daily routine of the human herd, of hamsters rolling the great wheels of death machine, squeaking at the shocks and nibbling the cheese and reciting and discussing and delighting in their shared programming history, in their stupid lives, in their cancers, their deaths, their TV shows, their jobs, their ignorance, their endless, pointless, forward creeping, their glorious, blithe nose-dive into their pay-check's pleasures, into an ecstatic emptiness: a glowing incinerator: a parking-lot full of business-men conspiring and colluding on the big lie, the big dream, the big nauseating screaming sweating nightmare of Business America/ Consumer America/ Corporate America/ Media America/ Fascist America ...

Sweet Little Sixteen
She's got the grown - up blues
Tight dresses and lipstick
She's sportin' high - heel shoes
Oh but tomorrow morning
She'll have to change her trend
And be sweet sixteen
And back in class again

Say, hey! You mother earth
You better bring me back down
I've taken just as much as I can
But around and around and around and around
Is the problem of a spaceman

Zu Zhou features prominently in sultry scribe Mian Mian's tell-all sexpose 'La La La'. Harking back to the Cultural Revolution (1966-76) samizdat mode of literary dissemination, Zu Zhou plans a xerox-only release of his work Rabid Howling Grave. Bootlegging is encouraged.