To exit neural City Life one must be able, from a dead stop, to mentally jump flat footed fifty feet in any direction at any time.
When you are going nowhere, nothing, nothing can stop you. (This sentiment is sound and applicable only to those who have already distanced themselves somewhat from The City.
Neurons are City Life; hormones are its infrastructure; the open plains outside of town are on no anatomy chart.
“Pa, why do you speak in metaphors and symbolism about hormones and neurons, and primary and secondary realities, and about being in The City or out on The Plains, instead of just saying directly what you mean?”
“Do you understand now what I am talking about?”
“No, not fully.”
“Well, you would grasp even less if I described things to you, plainly as they are.”
“How do you know?”
“Because life does so constantly and you don’t get it.”
“Pa?” ”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I axed.”
“I know.”
And now for today’s grand prize:
Why, amongst the ordinary, do the few have such a shifty reputation?
Because they deserve it.
J.