Gross negligence of ideas allows them to fester and rot. Designed negligence is infinitely worse. A slobbering mess of menaces charging full speed ahead into the eternal wound of apathy. A mistake of self. An illusion of ego dancing on stage in the moonlight... refusing to see the other. The one without. The one within the perennial spring. The moonlight casts no shadows but the flowers dance not in stages but in the infinite field of treasure. Selling all they have to search for the one pearl. Shadows leaping and bounding in joy awash in the sunlight of the Holy Spirit. The forgotten limb of the three legged stool.