Lucky chicken.
The chicken could use every little bit of clemency.
The Princess asked me to pick out a tree to hug, and like which part..... trunk, branches or leaves?
So, naturally, I picked the roots of a pine tree.
Are we about to have chexit...... or is it vexit?
Wait, didn’t we already have chicken under the bus?
See, my memory hasn’t failed, yet, has it, Princess?
Rising tide.......? Sounds like we might need a life vest.
Otherwise, we might have chicken catch-a-Tory.
9:40.......
The Princess wonders how I would react, if she told me that portals were old news.........
This comes after she reminds me that time is relative
So we are informed by the queen of the hive.
And everything is entangled with everything else. Particularly, everything with its opposite...... gnosis with agnosis, for instance.
Yes, Princess, the goal is to dissolve all boundaries, and you are already living that reality........ but...... Many or most of us are just not there, yet. We still struggle with our old boundaries.
And, hey, will I be repatriated with my vest?
So, here we are informed that Disclosure is yesterday’s news. It is already stale.
Is the Eschaton yesterday’s news? And 3.5 will remind us that the world is not going to end.
But many of us will come to find that relative appearance to be rather compelling, nonetheless.
Ok, that’s our problem, not the Princess’s.
The Princess is not here to interfere in our history. Is this not the prime directive?
She has shared her portal experience with several others, and, uniformly, they are less than eager to have this information published.
You may ask Ack, if you like.
11:20.......
What do they say....... Disclosure is the hobgoblin of small minds..... bawk, bawk.
She also suggests that, if there is any Disclosure work to be done, I should really step aside, and allow fresher minds to deal with it.
It was not the Princess who apprised me of the whereabouts of the vest. That was foot. He loves nothing more than to arrange for the misconstrual of meetings...... ‘briefings’, for instance, where both parties expect the other to provide the information. That’s not the case here, but you get the idea.
At this rate, the chicken will be the last one to figure it out..... no small irony.
And, as everyone tells it, there really is nothing to figure out.
The only ones who don’t know what’s going on are the chicken and the editors at the Times.
The tabloids figured this out aeons ago.
And everyone will know what they need to know, exactly when they need to know it. It is the best possible world, after all.
I believe that, deep down, everyone knows that this world has all the makings of the best possible world....... we just need to let it work itself out....... naturally.... spontaneously. No chickens need apply..... thank you very much.
Ok, but what about personalism......? What about cosmopsychism?
I see too many political barriers...... with everyone looking the other way........ hey..... not my problem.
Well, Princess, the chicken has all day....... no, the chicken has until the cows come home. I guess I can count sheep until hell freezes over.
And, for the heck of it, I google cosmophsychism and eschatology and Wednesday’s post is included in the first batch. Google might not be as dumb as she looks.
And Princess reminds chicken that Tinkerbell hasn’t forgotten. On that note, I’d better call it a day.
(cont.......)
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