Bowls of sugared flakes

Rising up, their yeasted cakes

Pearly lava floes

Through the cracks, the comatose

Lulled to sleep between

Fading dreams and hollow sheen

Nimrod’s constant hunt

Wascaly wabbit, willful shunt.

It is true, after all, that life is naught but sequences of games — intricately connected and lovingly detailed games, but games nonetheless. However, it is also true that exist some of these games which human society properly demands you must play. The refusal to pay their rules and procedures the attention which arbitrary “others” have deemed necessary is all too often equated with treason, and sequestered whenever possible. 

Therein lies my greatness inequity, for I do not like to play games where a short, frigid burst of truth will serve my aims infinitely more effectively.

I’ve found that, on the whole, it becomes much harder to convince people that a string of random events is truly random if such a string, when interpreted as a whole, can be attributed some sort of rational psychology. This is to say, if a string of unrelated events, originating from entirely different internal methodologies and connected only by egregious statistical anomalies, can somehow be interpreted as giving proof of God, this argument instantly becomes much harder to refute than a similar coincidence offering no psychological interpretation.