Self-Falsifying Paradox: Tongue Eats Very Well Browned

The spectacle of three planets, the hope of intellectual victory, the use of postdialectic rationalism to modify society-- these are the things I think of when I reminisce about the time I was sprayed with bullets at a checkpoint in Mogadishu. You see, I was mesmerized by the history of the music scene there, and I thought to myself, "Forget you not, ev'ry man should one day into blackness wander," and I was off with several unexpected leg movements and a square remark, as they used to say. While in Mogadishu, I bore witness to a little larger than thirty temper blows before hyper-extending my arm and being forced by matter of circumstance to narrowly escape an assassination attempt in your uncle's car. Remember?

I have often reflected on the pleasant horribleness of a single day confined to the green pasture under her firm apple bum and what-not. Quiet. Shhh, now.