2029 — Escape the matrix? And the fleeceable plebs in sheep’s clothing scrapegreatestofalltimes Ted. (“For binge-playing tetris!”) Sap the chicanery? And the machinery worn out by design scraps Ted. (“Send this crap where good irony is made by smelting!”) “Quo vadis, Ted?” To give the State the butterflies! And the status quo butterflies Ted like a fish. (“The result will be one fillet, not two.”) Anastacia, left alone outside the operating room, is sick-n’-tired singing a lullaby. Welcome to her truth, Ted: She is not sad for you!