I've been talking to a young python about such matters as illusion. That one is particularly wise and has captured my entire imagination in an unblinking stare.
I speak dog fluently. I speak horse enough to get by. Speaking snake reveals all of my illusions for as far as I can see. I'll be speaking snake steadily now, for a while. Only at home though.
I conversed with a four year old six foot Irinan carpet python too, but the illusion of being rendered down to a simple support to assist in balance was too strong for me and I began to feel buds stir in the lengthening light. The juveniles showed no respect what so ever for anything I might previously have held as truth.
This carpet python took me all the way back to the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees.
Before I begin to feel a little warm, I'll tuck myself in and sing myself a song.
The River runs to the west, as does the energy. I don't sense much strength to the east, but west, well west is strong. The talk under the ice is loud and clear.
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If you assume that there's no hope, you guarantee that there will be no hope. If you assume that there is an instinct for freedom, there are opportunities to change things, there's a chance for you to contribute to making a better world. That's your choice.
Noam Chomsky, The Chronicles of Dissent
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