...And so it came about, that in the shadow of the deepest night, all things light and bright could be revealed, and the darkness banished from around us, if only we could stay the journey. For back in simpler times, before the invention of the tricorder, the sonic screwdriver and the mp3 player, two wandering minstrels happened, quite separately, upon a drinking establishment. And there they renewed their friendship and sat and drank and discussed and drank and deliberated and drank and decided upon a project - a distillation of musical essence - and were drunk. Yes, Andy of the House of Jackson and Ali of Nicholls were intoxicated. But when hangovers had bid their fond farewell and sanity had once again settled uncomfortably on the pair, music was created, and many an evening spent perfecting their sound. The sound of The Little Man. The sound that all the little men and women would want to hear, and the tales and stories and maladies and remedies that they would want to know - if only they just knew! And so it was that Andy saw us all as weighed down, imprisoned and robotized, and he asked - How can you die, if you've never been alive? Yet perhaps we still responded as if hypnotised, Systemized, and so he begged - Why can't you fly, if the limit is the sky? And they made us fly with them on a carpet of electric guitars, to take us far above the trouble, beyond the pain, to an Astral Tapestry where you are what you choose to be; and we agreed - I love it, you love it, we love it. But they saw our changing face and knew that we were never of one mind, that we would smile and we would cry... and they wrote of how you feel at any given moment, and how different that always seems to be, and they called it the Face Time Continuum Experience. Still our minstrel pair wandered; travelling far and wide with their music. Busking throughout Europe (well nearly all of it - but it was smaller then), and they were... well-received in Germany ...misunderstood in Italy ...vilified in France ...worshiped in Austria... but they can't remember much about Holland... Summer ended and Blightie beckoned, and Andy returned to pick up the pieces of an Office Job he would rather have not. And in the hope that somehow he would escape from it he sang - Let her go, she's not yours, pick another cause. Indeed, by now he was in the habit of taking regular comfort breaks... returning to the office with another verse or another chorus penned on the most unlikely of writing paper. Then, suddenly a flash... It hit him like a gauntlet slapped across the face; a challenge, a duel, a fight to the finish! What would life have in store for the duo? And for us all? There would be obstacles and detours on the way, dragons to slay, but Andy would meet his Future Self... ...and still know nothing at all. The fullness of time would reveal two sides to The little Man. The Yin and the Yang. The Light and the Dark. His lighter side yells... Vote Wiggy! But his darker side whispers... Innocents Lost. Lightly he romps through a satire of political life, but darkly he issues an invective against the perpetrators of war! We cannot help but laugh at Wiggy, but at the loss of the Innocents we cannot help but cry. Yet Andy the philosopher had always seen how the story ends - another hero statued, another round applause - and in that first Summer he had penned Society Collapses. But was it real, or just a camera shutter clicking wildy? And Ali knew this had been a long and difficult journey, and we should not despoil our world just to ease the journey. So we were minded to see The World Is No Battlefield - and some may reject you and some will accept you... but less hate won't do any harm either. And so we have it. The questions had been asked, the riddles had been rhymed, the feeling, the hope and the meaning. It is all here. You can believe in yourself, no-one else will, as, in the end, you find yourself with nothing but An Answer.
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