As life caused man to get lost in the woods,
it laid down a trail of bread crumbs, tracing his path,
this trail being the collective's genetics;
the ability to read it being the reward of the awakened.

While playing, one kid posed this to a bud,
"What's the difference between man's routine, intellectual explanations of life and his defecation process?"
And his pal replied, "Bottoms up!"
(...Okay, then, mister smarty pants -- how can you tell?)

But...what have we here?
A cross-eyed man in a house of mirrors never feels disoriented.
(...Oh...so that's what we have here -- everyday, human intelligence.)

And a man overhearing this reacts, "I don't care how you claim otherwise,
such as you've just said is most certainly a criticism of man. And don't try to tell me that it's not!
I have perfectly good hearing and intelligence, and I hear quite well you criticizing man,
and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. And what do you say to that?" he concludes.
(What indeed can you say to that?)

As life led man into a woods, for which he had no map,
it placed within him the potential to develop a transcendental,
mental compass which can locate not only where he is not,
but from whence he came,
along with hints as to the direction in which
the unestablished future may lie.

 

A secret that can be revealed is not The Secret.

For a fraud to succeed, the defrauded must freely participate...
think about that next time you think about how you usually think!

According to legend, there was once an extreme mystical order which said
that all talk is a form of criticism.

As the plane dipped low, and its flight became increasingly erratic, someone yelled out,
"Well, if you are going to crash, the least you can do is shut off the engines, and save us
from that godawful noise."

If you're alive, you're going to die,
and if your mind is only minimally alive, it believes that everything's going to die.
...Silly mind.
"Roger! -- wilcott -- out and about -- mach five!"

According to legend, the only mystical orders acceptable
are those extreme. "Okay: Mach nine!"

After many decades of dating,
one night, life finally offered to drive man home.
"More trickery, I assume," said a voice in the crowd.