A Sudden Gust: How Big The World

You Can Only Kill Disappointment With A New Try.

We Dream, We Wake On A Cold Hillside, We Pursue The Dream Again. In The Beginning Was The Dream, And The Work Of Disenchantment Never Ends.

We All Have Secret Lives. The Life Of Excretion; The World Of Inappropriate Sexual Fantasies; Our Real Hopes, Our Terror Of Death; Our Experience Of Shame; The World Of Pain; And Our Dreams. No One Else Knows These Lives. Consciousness Is Solitary. Each Person Lives In That Bubble Universe That Rests Under The Skull, Alone.

The Minimum That Most Minimalists Want Leaves In Place Just The Institutions Who Protect Their Interests. That's Libertarians For You - Anarchists Who Want Police Protection From Their Slaves.

Look At The Pattern This Seashell Makes. The Dappled Whorl, Curving Inward To Infinity. That's The Shape Of The Universe Itself. There's Constant Pressure, Pushing Towards Pattern. A Tendency In Matter To Evolve Into Ever More Complex Forms. It's A Kind Of Pattern Gravity, A Holy Greening Power We Call 'viriditas' And It Is The Driving Force In The Cosmos. Life, You See.