Good Morning and We are Back!

Good morning and we are back! Normally now I’d kick it over to Joe for Sports but this morning our viewers are in for a special treat! Just been handed thisjust a moment please Just been handed this, err, commentary from our esteemed colleague and correspondent, uh, Eric Franhern, who is also known as Batman’s son. It says on this script here, uhm, seeing this for the first time – he is considered, I’m quoting here, the King of Carrot Flowers by way of the inverse Keys. Once thought to be eyes but –ahem, excuse me – once thought to be eyes but now known to be fingers. Which teleprompter? Okay . . .

Over the years we’ve received hundreds of enlightened letters from Batman’s son, but today we are so pleased that he’s taken the time to hand deliver this most important manifesto to our studios and agreed to supervise its reading.

OKAY. Camera two? Tonight, I, Bill Clorse am humbled to read something so illuminated and sacred. The divine word that will be heard by the two twined layers of human consciousness like rivulets in shiny marble countertops, like the quality of oil in puddles and/or also found in sponge cake. Before –uh, oh, pardon– Before I begin let me say, in my knowledgeable and stately opinion, and using my ordinary mouth, that each of these words contain PURE HOT TRUTH. But before the story begins after I read it. –Excuse me. Just a moment. Oh yes that’s correct, excuse me, this camera?-

I, anchorman Bill Clorse, now reveal Batman’s son, Eric Franhern and I have been part of a secret fraternity know as the Throne of the Third Heaven for several million Yoda-years, about 6 seconds on this blue marble P3. But in this time RE: SIX SECONDS, three blinks of an ordinary eye, or one bite of a fruit roll up, everything has been revealed. All wisdom contained in ten pink toes – Harrumph. Sorry something in my throat, ahem, continuing

THE PROGRESSION: Tonight in the west: Not eyes but fingers, not fingers but toes. In the east: not rain but walking in reverse, beginning as an old man in a crosswalk greeted on the other side by a sleeping bag, IE: THE WOMB. All turds waiting for the flush.

IMPORTANT: The map creates the land. The map creates the land. Essence precedes existence. The land is created by the map – This land is your land, understand? Of course. Like all the Shirley Temple dimples folded into one. Also please note: the television has run out, static spilled into the living room. White ants chasing black ants all over the floor. This transmission is being beamed directly to your mind-grapes via the big rock-candy hologram.

–   Allow me a second to scan the text please, okay.-

This nearly ends the illuminated portion of our broadcast, composed and copy written by Batman’s son.

It will end as long as you clearly heard the words from our benefactor Batman’s son, sometimes referred to as the King of Carrot Flowers. Think on their heaviness, falling from the Christmas Tree of wisdom like leaden leaves of pure power. A little prayer then for the Original Batman Sr., the first King of Carrot Flowers. When I say: Oh if only I/Oh if only/Oh if/ Oh, you say it too. –Just one moment, Ahem. Mr. Franhern is gesturing off-camera. Just a moment. Oh thank goodness. Thank you.-

Okay, we’ll be right back after these words from our sponsors! Stay tuned!


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