28 September

Intrepid spooks may outshine a flank of Corsicans on an inland shore. But for knowledge to be sprayed upon the alter of the knows and the know-nots, there must first be an emancipation of the forlorn loins whence root crops sprang upon the gib. For it was that very borderland that cost us our horizon. Our memories were conscripted on revisionists' averages, lying about with hands up like sleeping newborns under the heat of light, with their assumed clean slate that never was. Really they rehashed methods of meeting desires, still thinking satiation was on earth as it is in heaven. In the end they lost what they thought was everything despite being fed, groomed, sheltered, and loved. Still destitution was their choice of illusion.