Hi Jo,

sorry to put you to the trouble to reply to my provocative and sarcastic
question; even so, I can't respond positively to your post except to say I
recognise the dead-end of slavery to habit, convention, conditioning and
general mechanicality to which you allude. We can talk until we are blue in
the face about ways to circumvent these obstacles to our well-being, invent
systems and indulge in wishful thinking 'till the cows come home but I
suspect the actual way around is completely unsuspected.

On a lighter note I found myself humming the tune to this song by Don van
Vleit while I typed the above

When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Some are crowned kings while others lose their thrones
When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Small "O" mouths scream and run to Mama Kangaroo
Insecure pouches wherein hide beggars and drones
And babies and bums and buzzards
Mama crouches and smiles her old useful smile
And old ego roars, laughs yesterday's gasses
While children and angels gasp
And follow a shepherd on crutches



When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Some flew the dream, some turned to stone
And the children sing
And the heavens ring
Worn by the shepherd with the folded wings
And the bones that sing of silence



When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Some are crowned kings while others lose their thrones
When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Small "O" mouths scream and run to Mama Kangaroo
Insecure pouches wherein hide beggars and drones
And babies and bums and buzzards
When the Witch Doctor Life throws his silent bones
Some flew the dream, some turned to stone
And the children sing
And the heaven ring
The bones that sing of silence

-Peter
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