This is Not Robert Longshore - The Memoirs of the Fulcrum of Fate

  Part Five – Dazed and Confused and Very Likely Concussed I stop, staggered. By a thought: Peitho's religion is dedicated to Chaos. R – Robert you have known this for— I – Her religion . What does it even mean? I don't know. I do think that it is— I – Profound. I feel, standing there, in the dark of deepest midnight, as though the ground beneath my feet were trembling and quaking as though a distant western peak had exploded, spewing rock and vomiting lava into the sky – as though the very Earth had rent open its own crust, revealing a cavern directly into the depths of her mysteries. And I am overwhelmed. I see, in my imagination, the chasm which led to the River of Fire from my NDV – that river which separates this life of torment from the next in the Yaldabaoth's Grand Scheme of Things. In my mind, I am staggered, then fall to my knees, arms upraised in anguish – like that scene from that movie – Platoon – you know, the one on the poster. T...

  Part Four: Every Mother's Son T here is a curious story among Plato's dialogues. Aristophanes at the Symposium. Basically, a bunch of the who's-who of Athens are enjoying their wealth by eating and drinking too much, when the talk turns to the topic of love – that is, of Eros, the god thereof. Now, why anyone – particularly Plato's female audience – because he most certainly entertained an audience of women, much to the chagrin of his peers – wanted to hear what a bunch of men thought about Love , I don't know and can't speculate. And, it's curious. I feel like I haven't thought about this particular story since the first time I heart it. The same moment I dismissed it without any further consideration. Like, I am coming – and have arrived, of course, since – to realize that I did with so much of what I was taught as a boy. But, of course, that isn't true – because I'm going to tell it to Peitho. But, now— Maybe that's why I...