Mary Ann!!

Ok. Slowly indeed. It should be. Even deconstruction of Armageddon must be a slow enterprise. Especially that. Why? Ok. It's banal. In order to stop the world, let's try to make things go slower. Some may prefer Speed, on a bike, head on, into a pink wall. It's not given that the world stopped for that  friend of mine, who did seek to follow into the black hole in such a manner.

Time is running. I'm easter rabbit, already seen the ressurection, even though it's the long friday for those who believe in Saint Constantine and the empire state Santa Clause. What we believe about easter rabbits?

Let's start with the impression that death is alive. You may not have that impression, but it surely exists. So if you don't have it, you may impress it on your imagination. I'm not trying to impress you with truth, merely with the ability to access belief as a tool for your own benefit. Belief is a complex notion. I believe I'm hungry. I believe in your reading. I believe in death as alive. I believe in whatever I choose to believe; and I believe I have the freedom to start and stop believing. I used to believe very strongly. Then I stopped believing, I thought. Then came Mary Ann.

You know? You know that you are Mary Ann? It's not so strange. Everybody misreads the dodocaroll. You got to dance the races. Alice, You are Mary Ann! When I adress you like that, you should very well understand, I do it for a purpose. G*dm*t. Of course the revolution is Aliquid, thus always broke, and damned. Mary Ann.. What do the white rabbit follow?

(Liberty guides the People is dated 1830, It's made by Eugène Delacroux)

Timeaghast

Slowly now. Very slowly, indeed. Mindfullness of Sphota and Shabda too, standing here at a timestill: As a contrast, distinctly. For her 'youth,' 'audacity,' 'vigour,' and 'swift directness of purpose,' read 'elderly,' 'timid,' 'feeble,' and 'nervously shilly-shallying,' and you will get something of what I meant him to be. I think the White Rabbit should wear spectacles. I'm sure his voice should quaver, and his knees quiver, and his whole air suggest a total inability to say 'Boo' to a goose.