Way back in June of 2014, you may recall America erupting in a Stormborn-like rage at the Supreme Court's Hobby Lobby decision, which allowed for closely-held corporations to refuse Plan-B to women on the basis of Jesus. WHERE ARE MY CONTRACEPTIVES? we collectively screamed. But as we roiled on the interwebs, disbelieving the step backwards for women's rights, two heroes emerged: she, who would be known soon among the masses as the Notorious RBG, and a peculiar guitarist who would set her unforgettable dissent to song.

Like biblical David serenading King Saul with his harp, so Jonathan Mann brought out his guitar, a purple shirt and a warm, inviting, though slightly-balding face to sing us the words we all wished had been the majority's opinion.

But friends, it would appear that Mann cannot survive on RBG alone. In today's video (he writes and shoots a simple music video every day), we can see, hear, and feel the struggles that our once proud hero has borne.

Gone is the shirt. Gone is the hair. Gone are the rhymes, the rhythm, the pitch, and any hint of sanity. When he looks forlorn out the window, we see it as a clear metaphor for the human community he no longer finds strength in. "Where are my followers?" he seems to ask. Now, we can only wonder what devastation this man has been through and what zombie like forces have conspired to string together such lyrics:

Can you really run out of luck?

Can you really get unstuck?

Driving a pickup truck,

Through the desert in the mud?

Can you party with Captain Hook?

Can you give me another look,

With every cliche in the book?

Raining down like tears?

Jonathan Mann, we are here to help you. If a bowl of goddamn potato salad can be crowdfunded for $50,000 than dog gummit, we can get you whatever it is you need. Please, just let us know. We hate to see you like this.