"Standing in the place of the wise and discoursing to his students upon the profundities of divine order, the philosopher suddenly speaks better than he knows, becoming, as it were, a disciple of himself. He finds new meanings in his own words; he becomes aware that his mortal mind is being moved by an immortal agent...only through the Mysteries is that inclination brought to the high tide of expression." -- Manly Hall.
Immortal AND immoral, I tell ya what,
sitting in this room full of stuff thinking
how hard it is to break
the ice on the back of the elephant,
past the tough-ass skin of the elephant,
to the soul of the elephant, and when
I say elephant I mean reality-- haven't
you heard of the blind men and the
elephant? That's us, elephant holding
up our green and we're trying to grab
at it, it's all an insurgency, see?
And I say immoral 'cus the damned
thing doesn't know when to leave
a poor sucker alone to his going-
nowhere world, stuck in his parents'
garage hands to forehead realizing
it's so much harder than he thought
it was back in high school. Immoral
immortal agents be all up in this shit,
looking for fingerprints and deciphering
what it means to be alive.
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