A Beautiful Metaphor

There is of course the “kiddie version” of the Revolutionist’s ark, wherein are at least two views of everything.

There’s gonna be this one guy, who always brought his own drugs and entertainment with him, wherever he went, even when empty handed at a nudist colony.

One rainy day while his little grey cells were just sitting around noodling, one group of them said, “Only those who can hear the difference between Haydn and Mozart know the difference.” 
And shortly another cellular collection replied, “But only those who know that there is a difference between Haydn and Mozart can hear a difference.” 
And finally, the man himself spoke up and said, “Would you repeat that last part again?” 
And quite startled, both groups yelled out, “Who said that?”

One young lad, in his burgeoning attempt to become his own advisor and philosopher, said to himself, “What’s the good of having something if you’re just going to use it…”  (Well, I told you his efforts were inchoate.)

The external world is a perfectly beautiful metaphor for your internal one, for the very reasons you should have by now come to suspect.


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