This is the movable end of the poem, what it allows you to do
is stop right now, whenever you've had enough, you just return to this
stanza and hit think this, a sort of art-fix panic button
and the outlying mental travail will expire and lift, the cryptic plot against
the earlobe become blatant, the frigid ordnance recant in the sky
in general and NAME 8 split up retool CIPHER 3 just fuck and run
what BOX SPRING 5 t get out BLANK 1 this is the game on
- From Stress Position, by Keston Sutherland
Welcome to the moveable end of the poem, the home base, the fountain of clear knowledge.
Here I stand to remind you that The Situation room is located at
7 Fountayne Rd
If you want to sit down at any point on a surface which isn't concrete, you will need to bring your own chair...
The Situation Room is active to contain events and witnessed engagements of all kinds providing they are are deemed to indeed be urgent enough as to be needful of a Situation Room.
The Situation Room is here for neither your comfort or primary safety...
and it will hold open whatever room you need holding open...
All events here are free unless specified otherwise...
"Decisions are made by those who show up"
- The West Wing