Carefully examining a cactus while ponderously understanding the formative experiential moments in my brief life, I came to realize the phenomenological significance of botanical knowledge. The entire metaphysical universe that the ingestion of psychoactive organic pharmaceuticals unveils is necessary in the complete understanding of being. Curiously, the cactus took the form of a smiling satyr in the patterns of crystallized content on the surface of its flesh. Having read numerous accounts of such tryptophanic intoxication one constant theme is the presence of such cacti creatures having taken physical form and manifesting themselves in the surrounding physical environment. This process imparts a clear demonstration of circumstance and seems to suggest that the physical environment itself is at least partially controlled by will and perceptual intention. As if Idea metaphysically controlled perceptual physical reality to such an extent as to render physics dynamic in form both microscopically and macroscopically. As such, the present dilemna we all face is conspiratorially necessary in the sense of confusing the form with the idea. We persist in our asphyxiated panic to complete the pattern we've been so carefully taught through acculturative mechanisms beneath our immediate perception; the cycle of destruction now glaringly obvious is oblivious to most. We've been carefully convinced over the period of centuries to perform the exact function we now enact. Even the most abject slaves are roused into appreciative maneuver when shown the immediate benefice of temporal power. Drowning in our own hubris we now grasp for any stabilization, the obvious ain't so obvious anymore. As a cultural mass, we've resorted to sacrificing the future for the present having been convinced only that nothing is sacred. It's truly sad that our children have become dinosaurs in the sense of immanent tragedy. Unwilling to adapt to the obvious limited scope of our previous environmental considerations in our industrial progression we've clearly disregarded the future generations of planetary denizens having decided that the present orgy of the rich is so fucking important that we're willing to sacrifice the entire planet to satisfy the elitist urge of empirical dominance so institutionalized by the scientific revolution. The present political load began to sour when empiricism became the mantra of the privileged. At any rate, the only assured way of sustainability is to stop burning petrol now. We need our fucking cars. We need to suffocate our children. We need to kill each other. That was not our primary directive but a necessary eventuality of destroying the planet. No longer necessary, we are the procedural antagonists of the slough. The great cycle has ended. Time to begin anew. After a brief maintenance period. The great thing about geological time is that nothing is necessary other than time itself. We were time. It is near time to go.