Sanys Это Питер, детка As we hurtle towards another prescribed millennium plied with animatronic nonsense, our lives becoming ever cluttered with digital clots and falsified realities. As buttons, tools and aps breed uncontrollably, like vermin, like rats infecting logged on society with the Apple of individualism. As we continue to buy into the future, the now slips further from our consciousness. Not quite so suddenly—for it has crept and crawled for many years now—we have become the standard issues, with sub-standard goals. Apathetic. Lethargic. Utterly dependent. A sheepish Sheep Army with nothing to fight for. Watered down and bulldozed flat, the lands are dull and lifeless. Then and only then, when our Downfall is complete, we shall live again. Or so the Theory goes.