We stand in traffic wrapped in cords of our own confusion and tell 
ourselves that logic alone is sufficient to extricate us from this 
tangled mess. If our faith should falter, we need simply say "For 
thus, then so, and if thus and so, then yet another" until we have 
demonstrated that, yes, we are indeed in control of the traffic jam 
and, yes, these thought-cords are in fact the blue blazer and slacks 
we selected from our closet just this morning. All is as it should be 
and, if proof is needed, simply notice that all is as it is (Q.E.D).

Our Method Is Our God.

Sometimes in a fit of joi de vivre we gather up and pick sides, half 
saying "If Thus, then So" and the others "If Thus, then yet another" 
and begin to scream each other hoarse. It is great fun, for secretly we
all know that the Thuses and Sos are not as significant as the Thens. 
Occasionally a Foolish Individual may try to tell us that our ponderings 
are just a house of cards, but ho ho ho - brandishing our Art is enough 
to stymie such silliness. If nothing else, we can use these ponderings 
and a Few Good Men to assemble a prison of cards and show these beasts 
the seriousness with which we pursue our play.

--->

Fiddle while you burn if you must, but with our Blind Men's enhanced 
senses we feel the Truth above us. Like children jealous of the flight 
of birds, we heave rocks skyward to bring it down. With the crass mockery 
of Iron feathers and Newfound axioms we bind its wings. Then we perform 
a devious arithmetic and Lo! The idea belongs to Us and we declare it 
Dead 

--->

(though it would be heretical 
to admit 
that we have 
only 
killed it in effigy).