to me, it's very hard to explain something to a woman, without having to invoke the concept, prior, and subsequently dwindle in what's actually being explained; personally? i think that the grand genuis of woman conceptualised the idea of money, after all, if man is the tribal facet to the whole story, the inventive spirit of group-mentality, of ethnicity, of nationalism, of whatever propels the vector of history toward its never seemingly ending agitation, well... only a woman could have conjured the concept of money, what with prostitution being the base profession requiring money... if ever there be an alchemy of the transvaluation of "values", then the commoner's stone is the idea of money... why is it that in his living wake, van gogh was a pauper, but as history states, he's by now a ******* millionaire? money can even transcend death, and evaluate a second glance in its post-mortem stare: worthless as alive, glorified as dead; in times of war, money becomes rationing, in times of peace, an unfair dispensation of values / worth.

and is that not why there's this apparent
disgrace of woman
within the critique of feminism?
    it worked like magic,
the first original idea by a woman:
   money...
                    but how is modern woman
expecting an equally respectable idea
to be digested, when it stages
   itself via feminism -
              yes, woman conjured money,
man failed in his alchemy,
  so instead started pampering people
with shampoos, toothpaste and the likes...
it's enough that woman gave us
money, but it's another to congest
and sardine pack the philosophies ranging
from ancient greece to modern day,
in the sardine-can of feminism,
and every other -ism...
                          sure, aristotle was ******
when it came to arithmetic and ivory -
but then again: maybe that was just
a joke back in ancient greece,
                        regarding giving *******?
money i can understand, but feminism
and its attempt to allow itself a shortcut
into every aspect of masculine thinking?
ah! i heard this one before,
scientists call it: the theory of everything...
look! feminists already proprose that
feminism is: that grand theory of everything!

i can't stress it enough...
   how can you digest a book of philosophy?
i can't stress it enough:
   solve a sudoku while reading a book
of the apparent content...

and some do say, drifting between
the waking-hour, and the hours-of-nox -
well... if we call the former words,
we can call the latter numbers -
     and isn't that a great comparison -
it's like seeing colour in black & white -
what with how letters are arranged
and how numbers are arranged -

   we can even begin calling
equations                   words -
for example e = m c squared
           to imply arranging a, b, c, d, e, f...
   into the word relativity -
interchangeable properties of energy
and matter...

            while 0 - 9 stress an automaton
process of the body -
               the unconscious -
  letters a - z stress the sporadic eventualities
of speech mingling with thought -
      the conscious -
           and in between these two:
images, or the evolution of / disarming of
hieroglyphics - stripping said unsaid:
to mere bone...    to the skeletal now apparent.

how would one begin crafting an image
of thought?
            sooner than one might think to begin:
the soul is already portrayed as a breath
of etheral form, loosely matched to imply
a human body,
     as a monkey is: **** similis -
                          and sure enough:
   something out of disney tale -
   bound in the entranced eyes of hades,
          like blotches in a flux of a lava lamp.

i don't day dream,
           i hardly ever dream -
                       enough of the nonsense bound
to a single day, than to drag even more
nonsense into the depths of nox -
   ah, but the rivers of the underworld:
from the river of tongues,
   to the river of sleep -
     of the styx we known -
                   how the dead speak to the living
within the confines of sleep -
   how else? how else can we conjure light
in the cranium, where no light can enter?
   if dreams are not how the dead speak to
the living while asleep, how else the binding
contract of mourning, and the annual
celebration *in memorandum by the grave,
the laying of flowers, the candles that light
up the dark night of october eclipsed
that's all saint's day -
                  indeed, in memorandum
     of the stated born on & the died upon dates;
but the rivers of hades!
                    die zungefluss (the river of tongues) -
and indeed that mediating river
                        of nox -        die traumfluss...

ah, but if you want to see a literary bosphorus,
why didn't you ask?
                     you can see the hand of the west
(bertrand russell) shake hands with the east
     (władysław tatarkiewicz) -
   regarding the philosophy of history -
                    or interchanging: the history of -
probably the only pompous word in the english
language.