They were terribly wrong. You could see them, with long black coats, on Bakerloo Line. Or in Paris, near the grave of Jim Morrison. They appeared in other stations of the metro, in Paris, New York, even Cologne. They knew god, they even knew his name, though, the names were different. It was never a white goddess. Wankers all of them. They were possibly drugged when they wrote the universal truth (their versions of it) on fucking granite walls, stone walls, paper walls. ERIC CLAPTON IS GOD. BRIAN ENO IS GOD. JERRY GARCIA IS GOD. STEELY DAN IS GOD. The list goes on, but you understand the pattern. No matter how great these artist were, they didn‘t get the point. So here comes the name of the one and only god. It was a lot of soul searching, and digging archives, second hand record stores, witnesses, friends, but finally the truth is revealed. FRANK ZAPPA IS GOD. Written on a closet wall in Truro, Scotland. I saw it, amongst mobile numbers offering cheap fucking and instant blowjobs. Sometimes truth goes mysterious ways. Good night and good praying. Don‘t miss to listen to „Joe‘s Garage“, three vinyl records of holy shit!