Pool_2

Unquestioning. Suspend reason. For what reason? But youth was fickle and caterwauled, Hell no, we won't go! Inconsistencies. Everywhere, permeating inconsistencies!

Heated politics of race sizzled the streets, spinning vortices of reaction, rising from hot tar. Reason, and unreason, were the same. Jail the Chicago seven or free them. Both, factious voices in amorphous howl. Movement was by insistence. Policy by coercion. Good was not found in philosophy, dialectic, or a profession of self evident truths. Good was merely a place, a tight squeeze, between equally emasculating extremes. It was a transparently thin and transient haven squashed between opposite forces. Good was only to be found in a nil, a net zero. Or, perhaps, in the eye of a storm whose direction was fickle. Good was respite and respite was only to be found in negation. It was the balance of insanities, neutralization. It was being able to live in liberty, pursuing happiness which required havens, havens away from the unlistening and unequal out of control forces, havens outside the fire.

But counterpoise had been swept into chaos, onto the highways of self serving rhetoric on which marched self assigned truth sayers and on which rolled the self appointed enforcers. Apocalyptic Nazi helmeted horsemen, with chains on their belts,