Changing the world

I ran across this wonderful story called "There are things that are hidden from the eyes of the everyday" by Simon Sheppard, in Bending the Landscape: Fantasy (edited by Nicola Griffith and Stephen Pagel). What I'm about to quote is a portion of the speech one of the characters makes at the end. I found it worth pondering.

"...this world is but a dance and we are merely dancers. Any meaning discovered in this dance, once grasped at, once written down on parchment, is doomed to vanish before our eyes. Thus mankind is fated to forever search for magic, and insofar as we search, we become that which we seek. True wisdom lies in knowing that the journey and the goal are one.
...For truth is not our joy, and truth is not our sorrow. It is merely a secret which we already know, though we may keep it hidden from ourselves. But we shall never taste of truth till we let ourselves become that which we are, and indeed always have been, from the moment of creation. Though we are not this flesh, yet our flesh is all we have in this world. And so from the center of your being, come join us in the sweetly whirling dance of life."

( the joys of the rest of my day )

Feelin' kinda moody tonight. Watched Pearl Harbor, and then this really beyond stupid Italian Horror flick (Cemetary Man) featuring no less than Rupert Everett *fans self*. OMG, it was beyond bad, and I've seen just about everything Peter Jackson and Lucio Fulci ever released. Then, I watched State and MAin on Starz.
Oh yeah, and I about got my white ass kicked tonight. WuTang played the Newport, and some guy kept trying to sell me tickets. (I was out renting movies and getting Greek food down by there.) Anyway, I finally just loudly expressed that maybe if WuTang sucked any harder, everyone in the world would be getting a blowjob. Right about then, I realized I had made this pronouncement in front of the queue to get in, filled with rather fierce looking fans.
Anyway, I'm fellin' kinda moody, 'cause I no called no showed on Rodger tonite, mainly because I wasn't in the mood for more of his idea of foreplay ("Yeah, suck on daddy's tootsie pop.") Please! I swear, my ideal man is the male version of the blonde in Die Hard With A Vengence, who never said anything, but grunted a lot. But knowing my luck, he'd have dialouge like "Call me Olga, call me Helga!"
Interesting fact of the day. In WW I, sauerkraut became "Liberty Cabbage".
And so it goes, I've rambled enough for one day. Take care of yerselves, whereever you may be.