"Richard, Fuller" genre: Experimental
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	Listen to me, flesh beast...do you want to know the secret? Do you want to be on familiar terms with the hush-hush certainty bathed in truth? Commit to memory. Transmit the meme. Process. Live. Open up and say computer-devotional-quagmire. Salvation? No, but salivation! You got a hankerin’ for more? We are the dog food of the Cerberus! Ladle truth up and put it in a bowl on the floor. Here Fido, Fido, Fido- come and get it!
	MP3.com CD: An Introduction - buy it! CD: 50 Years of Timeless Jazz Favorites   Label: Dymaxion Records
	Story Behind the Song Our mission statement. This is jazz with eyes open and not afraid, though robots are around you. Relax, we are squirt-guns of saltwater (NaCl H2O). Lyrics From truth! Lo! The Buckminsters exist! Walk, amble, toddle, tread with us, find reality-devotion! Ah! Music! Racket! Rejoice! It is not criminal, we are not bandits, maybe vagabonds of funk! Do you hear us? We are with you. Holding hands; epic. We will kiss your ears and make lotus blossoms bloom. Noise-truth clears heads, opens the souls, windshield wipes the eyes; bop heads We are The Buckminsters: organize, plan, prepare. Instructing psyches in truth-noise. We pass the river Styx and get change! We tread on you, and eat pickles afterwards. We laugh at time, and then spit on our personal contacts. We have been known to steal first base! The earth trembles under us. Lakes turn to fire under our spell, and we eat the cooked carp. We are impervious to Chinese food! The lexicon is altered when The Buckminsters take ‘the boards’. We have been known to stumble across cosmic strings; epochs pass and shatter! The primal ooze of the Precambrian Seas turns to Dinty Moore Beef Stew under our magic charm! Pull the wool over your eyes; feel the static cling destroy the microprocessors civilization implants. We will break your bed in the wee hours and leave it kaput and soggy in the morning. Clear your heads- drip in noise truth; then take a shower in sandpaper. Rejoice! The avatars of noiseless noise; the idea of past masters gone bad. A din solidified into a hyphal mass of Devonian proportions (ala Prototaxites). Such is the undeniable truth-beauty complete completeness; The Buckminsters.

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