Lady of Spain

The simplicity of the primitive man, and the enriched simplicity of the Evolved.

Once, in jest, I told a man that being more evolved would be in hearing an accordionist play “Lady of Spain” without despising the player. But thinking back, I'm not so sure that was a joke.

In case I ever decide to write a series of books to “explain everything,” I've already got the titles. My four volume set would read:

Vol I:    All Aboard: The Steam Is Up.
Vol II:  On The Way: An Allegorical Departure.
Vol III: Full Speed Ahead: Where To Now?
Vol IV: Home At Last: Where're The Damn Brakes On This Thing

(These books would, of course, carry the endorsement of the BACP:The British Association of Chiropractic Psychiatrists.)

Within the Life-of-life, the mass of humanity is as its own organism, moving and expanding at its own speed.  There are two rates to this speed: The actual rate and the prophecy rate, which is talk, theory, and impractical-ideas-for-the-time.  Both are of consequence and both exist, but without the former soon following the latter they are not recognized.

Some mortal poet has said that man is conceived in pleasure, and delivered in pain.  Now if this were twisted around enough you could probably learn something.

J.