Neural Overload

I once met a cutesy, little human couple who swore theirs was the love-of-loves.  She waited tables while studying ballet and he laid bricks and played his music in weekend bars.  They claimed they were just “ordinary folks” except for their unequaled, uncontrollable, undying love.  They said they didn’t have much, but they had each other and this forever, spiritual, extraordinary love.  And yet they seemed rather ordinary.  (But, I guess I had no real reason to doubt them; she did have the bruises to prove it.)

You can only be impressed with ordinary Men so long as you do not know your own condition.

The ordinary often speak of a certain “inherent contradictions” in a situation or idea, when it is simply that they are blind to some of the various forces and interactions at work.

The Few must make that which is presently too drastic become gradually believable via neural overload.

I once was trapped into conversation with a so-called, holy man who did not seem especially pleased with my pedestrian and noncommittal responses to his bombastic ravings.  Following one such exchange, he stopped the dialogue and informed me, “If you, sir, had been better trained in religious affairs you would not have referred to this matter in those crude terms.”  And I said, “Well, I wasn’t, and I did.”

J.