On one world they experimented with having supers abandon their basements, and move to the penthouses, leaving the latter’s know-it-all-tenants to fend for themselves. They at first threw themselves on the mercy of their previously dismissed emotions, who, (surprisingly enough), took them right in. (As if either of them had any choice in the matter!)
Moral:
It is easy to “do the right thing” when you have no alternative.
Fact:
Ordinary people have no choice but to pretend to not know what is going on.
Fact:
Those who finally see through the smoke and ventriloquism have no alternative. They either accomplish it, or else their head swells up real big and bursts, and their cable goes out permanently.
No man gets to choose his nature, physique, or temperament, but a few post natally try. Their friends and neighbors tell them it is futile, (their own nature forces them to), but because of their own temperament—the few still do.
Hint:
There is more, unknown fun available in the penthouse than even a drummer on acid, or a philosopher on tenure, can begin to imagine.
The main thing you have to do to gain access thereto is to stop trying to wrestle with your own nature. It is not that you cannot overcome it…it is that you cannot even wrestle with it. Whatever it is that you believe you are doing is just it tusslin’ and foolin’ around with itself. Haven’t you ever been just the least bit suspicious of the whole affair?
“Yes, I hate me, and simply ADORE doing so.”
That is the unspeakable, real name of THAT game.
J.