Crooked Cards And Straight Whiskey, Slow Horses

I Write For One And Only One Purpose, To Overcome The Invincible Ignorance Of The Traduced Heart. I Wish To Speak To And For Those Who Have Had Enough Of The Social Lie, The Economics Of Mass Murder, The Sexual Hoax, And The Domestication Of Conspicuous Consumption.

Harvey , Galileo , Copernicus Do Not Seem Occult To Us, But They Did So To Their Contemporaries, Hierophants Of The Mysteries Of Natural Law, Revealers Of The Secrets Of A New Order Of The Ages. After All, The Movement Eventually Came To Be Called The Age Of Enlightenment.

It Takes Great Labor To Uncover The Convincing Simple Speech Of The Heart. Poetic Candor Comes With Hard Labor, So Even Does Impetuosity And Impudence.

You Learn Nothing If You Carry With You A Journalistic System Of Values, Which Is Invented To Save Reporters From Experience.

A White Crowned Night Sparrow Sings As The Moon Sets. Thunder Growls Far Off. Our Campfire Is A Single Light. Amongst A Hundred Peaks And Waterfalls. The Manifold Voices Of Falling Water Take All Night. Wrapped In Your Down Bag Starlight On You Cheeks And Eyelids Your Breath Comes And Goes In A Tiny Cloud In The Frosty Night. Ten Thousand Birds Sing In The Sunrise. Ten Thousand Years Revolve Without Change. All This Will Never Be Again.