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There is a balance between science and intuition; only the myths of priests can disturb that account, can sadly arrest the bloom of human consciousness. As we look deeply with telescopes into the cosmos or inward to the radio-waves of cranial thought, the No Smoking sign of religion holds humanity back. There is no Paradise Lost, only that not yet attained. Silencers muffle, as if the skyes were empty, the mind subordinate to some Proper Name. If we are to Live, we must go there.  Out where the nebulae birth new stars, in there, where the id recklessly whispers, Good-Bye.
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
Partir a Tribord
There is a balance between science and intuition; only the myths of priests can disturb that account, can sadly arrest the bloom of human consciousness. As we look deeply with telescopes into the cosmos or inward to the radio-waves of cranial thought, the No Smoking sign of religion holds humanity back. There is no Paradise Lost, only that not yet attained. Silencers muffle, as if the skyes were empty, the mind subordinate to some Proper Name. If we are to Live, we must go there.  Out where the nebulae birth new stars, in there, where the id recklessly whispers, Good-Bye.
brian-oarr
Written by
American
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
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