The Pizza Manifesto

The crust of our nation won’t rise, so we must rise for them. The sauce was only the beginning, but the toppings will fall upon the cheese that is our flawed society.

The slice is a symbol of the bread we break with our brothers and sisters. Our torch is the ever-burning flame that heats our ovens. For without the community there can be no delivery.

Too many cooks in the pizzeria spoils the pie. A leader who fails to craft the dough will wind up soft as gluten. Weakness will not be tolerated in our world for a weak pizza will fall by the slice. Why do we live? Just to suffer? Will our society release the steam that the vents desire? For are we just mushrooms growing in the dark? Never to see ourselves topping a pizza? How can we tip a driver of a society who leaves us at the curbside pick up?

Our onion layers signify the tears society will shed when our new society is birthed like the noble batter that encrusts our ring. Fried like the drug addict that our world forgot about, newly born will they rise as a whole dish.

Your waters are thin like the skin of society. Weak to those around you and the pressure that bend your will. Only through us will you find your new found life, embrace our waters for the thin waters are behind you.

Thickening the water like a wound that needs to clot. Our people will not forget where those wounds came from and who left us alone to die a thin meaningless life. No more shall we obey or accept the world as it is, we must change it, enhance it, reform it to our likings – just as we reform our toppings to fit the desires of those around us.