It's Go-Go not Cry-Cry. Why the Go-Go Dancer cries! Find out here!

I'm like the go go dancer in Planet Terror. All my outward actions are embracing of the world as it is, venal, decadent, decaying, carnal, yet inside, I'm a crying poet, hopelessly original, so original all the other poets make me want to vomit, they all are at the peace rally, they know nothing of life, so their poetry is worse than the poope of the pigeon, worse than denying themselves masturbation in sympathy with the penguins of antarctica who are committing suicide for global warming. I should kill them. They cry for death like the Immortals in Zardoz, the next place I will ride to on my motorcycle of horror like that person in those bad movies that have the power to move from one film to another, what ever happened with that? that was a very good idea for a superpower. I will work on that.
The great sorrow of the world is nobody knows 'nothin'. All the so-called smarty-panties are all agreeing with each other (disgustlingly Platonic circle jerks under their cafe tables). No one is original, this is the great satan (Hel-lo Iran!?) this is the great crisis of humanity. Has it always been so? Probably the self-appointed Pharisees (?) are always verbal and clever but they are not original and they cannot see and experience what I can and they are above going to the go-go dance except for the joke on their birthdays and they giggle, the scum, at the desperate ugly men who are my armies of true humanity.
This is why I cry.