Are those blind basket weavers on the cover? I think so. Is that a city laid to ruin on the insert, but someone is standing at the crossroads of the rubble with an umbrella? I think so, too. Rations follow suit. This is music made from an earnest place, a place of struggle and concern. I don’t think those blind basket weavers are having the best time, but it looks like they’re making something useful and they’re not shackled. It takes a certain amount of skill and patience to bend the reeds, but then there’s always another basket to be made right after you finish. It’s a craft as much as work, bending these notes together. Even if the landscape is decimated by medical malpractice, rampant militarism, all the leaves are off the trees, and there’s so much decay, it does good to appreciate the little things that haven’t been stripped away. Not getting sunburned. Keeping the rain off your head. Not giving in. Decades ago, Strawman threw a stone into a pond. Rations are a ripple from that rock bouncing onto shore.
–todd (86’d sent this to us, plus a boatload of labels)