Somewhere in the middle of Tony's wonderful landscape rested the emotional spirit of the NYC Downlow, Glasto's gay nightclub brim-full of possibility, in which a cascading new sense of freedom and personal liberation can begin to resemble reality. Amid this imaginative Dream-State sprung from his hands, Tony led some medical help in the form of the Gross Profit Hospital, where open your heart surgeries were offered and bleeding cuts stopped. In front of both tiny school and church were makeshift gravestones for Boris Johnson, Amber Rudd and others for whom the spirit of kindness is professionally, politically and personally anathema. In the Universicool of St Corbyn's there was a library, kitted out with books for loan including Marxist Spencer's Food Bank Recipes, Love in the Time of Co-opera, Fifty Shades of Red and Tory Mathematics. The devil's banished to the hills, past our open borders and beyond, sit cold and hungry exposed to the truths we laid bare. The trickle now a steady stream, from the great heights a collective pool emerged and we comfortably bathed in its warm waters.
Collectively we rose, our voices reached out and the redistribution began.
