If you know you are insane, then you are not insane, merely waking up.

It is the nature of the great to be inhuman. Take a cosmic view of things; not 'john' or 'peter' or 'mary', but vast empty abstractions, 'race', 'power', 'people', 'honour'. Lenses that diminish rather than magnify - you must sacrifice resolution to take in the universe. They look beyond its chitinous surface to the unchanging reality just 2cm underneath.

Just balls of hot hydrogen, vast clouds if interstellar gas drifting complacently. Kepler's laws hold great Jupiter in their thrall, yet a man may kill ten million and receive a medal.

They know this, and embrace it within the spirit of doublethink.

The wheel time of moves on, crushing all products of quantum uncertainty with democratic compassion. The flux will be equalised, the wrinkle in spacetime smoothened out in a perfect example of negative feedback. Our existence is only a temporary reprive from the otherwise unending boredom of enforced uniformity.

They know this, and push the wheel along.

Gods great and small fall from the sky as they beat the heavens in their inarticulate fury. New ones ascend upon budget airlines and are throne themselves on machines. Myopia is caused when the cillary muscle of the eye contracts and does not relax. Likewise frustration tainted with cold logic coalesces bends incoming insight to an focal point slightly two feet the left; it is surprising how differently things look from there.

They know this, and wear glasses to counteract their deficiencies. It plugs the hole of the heart but lesions of the brain remain unfilled. No wonder we get it from cows.

Teach me the words that would set me free. Otherwise kill me.

Somebody said that at 11:22 AM

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