December 30th, 2002 - 4:21 a.m.

Once again this moment; and a short essay.

Visions of perfect triangles float about with the staleness of a dust coated glass of water. Meandering with the tactics of butterflies. A glossed over mathematical stew.

Growing an exoskeleton. Shell grating over shell, nodule scraping over sandpaper surface. Lacking a mechanical grease.

A brief and frightening fluttering buzz in the right ear. Minute and terrifying. Warm.

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Celebrating the collaborated incorrectness of humanity. Hoping, wishing, that the world never quite agrees. (Monsieur Voltaire, vivre la diff�rence.) Perhaps not quite to the death, but the individual must be heard. So, march on you charming pseudo intellectuals that bore. March on.

Tolerance is the modern virtue. Not antiquated notions of patience. Nor chastity. Not prudence nor temperance. Not fortitude nor justice. And above all not faith.

But it must be understood that there is no ultimate divine truth. When playing out a divine comedy, one must never forget to laugh.

N.

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