Take What Is Offered And That Must

It Was The Single Forgiving Phrase In The Syntax Of Weaponry I Had Strapped About Me. The Rest Were Unequivocal Sentences Of Death.

Science Casts A Long Black Shadow Back Over Who We Think We Are, And Where It Falls The Temperature Falls With It. Its Touch Is Chilly And Unforgiving.

The Human Eye Is A Wonderful Device. With A Little Effort, It Can Fail To See Even The Most Glaring Injustice.

For All That We Have Done, As A Civilization, As Individuals, The Universe Is Not Stable, And Nor Is Any Single Thing Within It. Stars Consume Themselves, The Universe Itself Rushes Apart, And We Ourselves Are Composed Of Matter In Constant Flux. Colonies Of Cells In Temporary Alliance, Replicating And Decaying And Housed Within, An Incandescent Cloud Of Electrical Impulse And Precariously Stacked Carbon Code Memory. This Is Reality, This Is Self Knowledge, And The Perception Of It Will, Of Course, Make You Dizzy.

Culture Is Like A Smog. To Live Within It, You Must Breathe Some Of It In And, Inevitably, Be Contaminated.