Take What Is Offered And That Must

We All Get Our Dreams Stamped On From Time To Time, Right? And If It Didn’t Hurt, What Kind Of Second-rate Dreams Would They Be?

A Preoccupation With The Next World Clearly Shows An Inability To Cope Credibly With This One.

It Was The Single Forgiving Phrase In The Syntax Of Weaponry I Had Strapped About Me. The Rest Were Unequivocal Sentences Of Death.

For All That We Have Done, As A Civilization, As Individuals, The Universe Is Not Stable, And Nor Is Any Single Thing Within It. Stars Consume Themselves, The Universe Itself Rushes Apart, And We Ourselves Are Composed Of Matter In Constant Flux. Colonies Of Cells In Temporary Alliance, Replicating And Decaying And Housed Within, An Incandescent Cloud Of Electrical Impulse And Precariously Stacked Carbon Code Memory. This Is Reality, This Is Self Knowledge, And The Perception Of It Will, Of Course, Make You Dizzy.

Pretty Much Anything You Care To Imagine Can Happen In A Fantasy, Which In Turn Means You Can Really Crank Up The Intensity Of The Tale You're Telling.