3-D, 4-D, 5-D, softer.

Big wisdom seems to be sometimes slow and sometimes sudden but rarely freeway speed.

It's not that women are smarter.

Women may be, in certain ways, less stupid.

If so, we are obliged to make the less dumbness we have more effective.

Some guys are excellent at making a wide variety of situations into struggles for territory. Sometimes it is an actual game. Sometimes it seems like a game. Sometimes it seems like escapism. Escape from actual problems that might actually be solved, from wounds that might be helped to healing.

But when that stuggle for territory thing happens, intense and unstructured, we know from experience that people might be killed. We repress the inner "This is silly."

It is possible that women might average out a little less interested in establishing whose territory this is and a little more interested in having the place where we all are able to support life.

Somehow entering the mental ground water to prevent events like actual groundwater being pumped till it is salty and useless or until it is gone.

Low sun. Long shadows. Serious.

Frolic, no. Magic, maybe.

Being helpful.

Being helpful and being intrusive.

Being helpful and being intrusive and US foreign policy.

May I control you?

Are you waiting to be controlled?

United we stand. United we lie down. United we relax.

We take root and are united underground. We look at eyes and skies. The stars rearrange themselves. The new way doesn't look like a pattern until you get to know it.

The sidewalk is greys and browns, with black cracks and black old chewing gum.

It stopped raining about fifteen minutes ago.

The cracks stay black. The grey and brown cement and the old gum somehow manage to include the grey of the sky. The greys of the sidewalk are slightly gleaming with the bright grey of the sky. The browns of the sidewalk are brown and sky grey both.

We find ourselves amidst an intense sequel--"Industrial Revolution: The Hangover."

Interesting planet. What do you say we don't kill it?