Literature is not data dense, but it is emotionally so. Reading such works is like listening to the advice of a grandmother: Yes, maybe current executive meetings don’t contains such words, but maybe wisdom trickled down in places where talk of analysis and diagrams exist would be a useful glue to an organization’s cohesion. Oh money, how we fear you! We want to live as is, but how is that possible, when the implorations of work keep us busy in a way that, guilty though it is to admit, makes us want to be slaves, even though they don’t exist in an information society? You are pregnant with honor, and that means forever concentrating on getting more from less. Will an atom one day suffice to fill all of the caloric needs of an individual? This isn’t even science fiction, but it gives you an idea of the power of communication, for what can be said, can be done. The heart though, that is a challenge, for how will life be like when we have physical control of time through a more equated understand of love? One equation alone will even the playing field, so what happens if we create ten?
Strawberries and sheep dot the landscape of my brain. We want to lay a finger on your soil, but we know that we will be punished for doing so. How much longer do we have to wait, before the Palm Revolution occurs? When people who are purported to be noble have satanic hues smearing every breath they take, that is when you know that change is in order. Isn’t it ironic, that the word ‘lord’ has all but disappeared from public discourse? People are more interested in the color of the underwear of the girl next door, than in the hues of honor projecting from the will of a patriot. When will the English recover and once again and look with dispassionate staidness towards the celestial lands that now need to be conquered? You call yourselves a postindustrial society, but where is the burgeoning technology sector? It seems to be that words describing your progress are empty nomens. Yes, you are doing great compared to Niger, but the coronet of being under no one is now collecting dust. ...
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