*image by Ben Harubin

What usually passes for intelligence is simply what the ordinary have so labelled.
Within a certain invisible kingdom, however, faulty wiring is not recognized as art.

Ordinary men fear that the future may be cancelled,
While the Few expressly attempt to extinguish the past.

Might you sleep while you wake? Could you bear to do otherwise?
Can you understand the question?

Routine life is a prison, and the Few seek escape -- not penal reform.

Can you still remember the childhood dream of becoming intelligent?
The naive expectation of becoming real?
If so, you are a special piece of Life's-unfinished-Business...
...Welcome home.

...Once it is properly seen, what is it that I offer but disorderly delights
for the delightfully disorderly.