A great tornado knocks again at the unscrupulous door of our weird civilization after the great drought. This unstoppable ice-melting inflation points rigorously on the deep and fleshy abyss where the maniac xolotl-dogs are leading the whistling chorus of the first days. So when afterwards the final tsunami approaches irresistibly, billions of phantoms will scream once more the old imperialistic yelling of perpetual national growth because the vicious dogs had already ingraved their crucial signs of no-exit into the tarred and feathered walls.

The quite unstable planet earth rumbles like a hard-cooked crushing egg while the tornados strictly bend the dark forests on the unknown islands of the glowing red iron ocean where everything had begun during the era of restless vacuum-fires Some brave cosmonauts could already excape to the stellar constellation of the swan where they than had to sleep during endless nights in the crash-landed space craft wreck before simultaneously constructing the huge wheelwork of life again which shall semind the following to always seek the magic circulating maelstrom where the cliffs of our cosmos gaze into the labyrinths of space-time not far away in the next multiverse hidden in every moment.