Enter the Nightmares

General Feltington came to my commanders tent a few mornings ago.  He had had a dream, a most unpleasant nightmare. He dreamt of a neon-crochet bomb that stalked his every movement as he meandered through a desolate city.  Since then other men of his brigade have reported having the same nightmare.  I see it as a sign, to keep up production, for the time draws near and the crocheted bombs must be set.

Giving honor

To those whose crochet stepped out into the light of day we honor you.  For your love of stitch and the majestic colors and textures of yarn that you explored.  Laying a foundation for us to show the world all its beauties. We will no longer hide in small alcoves pretending to ignore the world as we slump over our creations. We will do it in public with our heads up high, our finger working vigorously and resolutely.

2010 "Tribute to young lovers" in Edinburgh Scotland by Sir Crochet

To all you closet crocheters...

The day will come when your crochet will want to be let loose from the dingy drawers you hold them in and your false urban housewife smiles.  They will get loose and eat you whole as they scramble to get out in the world and be seen.  The movement will overcome.

Day 1 of many to come

The men are in place. The arms and ammunition have been acquired.  The battle zones are beginning to manifests themselves.  There is solemn silence as the weather begins to change.  Soon the air will be filled with the soft sound of my swift acrobatic men.  And then.... we plant the bombs.