Something struck my me while it was existing: all this going to places because you can do things you want to when you get there is fine, but what about the places where you don't know whether there's anything that you can do on arrival at them? I know they say that mind is the ultimate reality and that as that reality is ultimately undifferentiated all knowledge is the mind and thus all mind must have all knowlege of all reality, but I reckon they sneak some places in round the edges that I don't know about. You know, crafty little inserts in corners you wouldn't expect where you can do all sorts of really great stuff, like, I don't know, eat sweets or stare at monkeys or become integrated with the cosmic Being. So my me thought about that and decided that it might be possible to employ one or more of the displacement mechanisms it had recently taken to employing in order to get to places in which there were only potential activities. I'd invent a kind of Schrödinger's displacement mechanism for my locus of being and just go to places with stuff that may or may not be in them until I looked at them. Sick of theorising, I simply acted: I
went. I made use of the third normal form of movement, a car, and went to a park, only to discover that my theory had been correct, inasmuch as the evidence I perceived seemed to support it - there were all sorts of activities in which to engage, including looking at things, allowing the light reflected from them to fall onto my retinæ, and using my visual cortex to formalise these things which I have a concept of as 'shapes' into 'concepts'. Not only that, but as there was some variety in the type and form of the things there, a further activity was to take photographs of these things (an example being a bit of carved stone on top of a column constructed from that very same substance), display them publicly along with a form of commentary regarding them, and hence pass all my resultant thoughts about theory and practice, craftsmanship and artistry, the fundamental nature of experience and the concept of conceptualisation (&c.) through the computerised internet and again out the other side and smashing through your retinæ into your visual cortices and BOSH! My thoughts are your thoughts! WHO'S YOUR DADDY?
