For infinite complexity, one can do no better than our present condition. The eternal strands of time and subatomic pattern cross referencing usually result in copious amounts of 'how the hell did I get myself into this?" occuring. Relaxing in the everlasting sunshine of the God's sweet love may SEEM the order of any given day, but somehow we ended up HERE. Ever one seeking to improve immediate conditions, our natural tendency is to bend form to our will. Of course, this is really approaching the problem backwards, but in such cases, ANY attempt to rectify the current situation is better than wallowing in the syrup of ignorance. Thus, somehow we sense a greater purpose to our temporal existence when we assign the absolute grandeur of mankind's outlandish attempt to control anything BUT our voracious appetites.
On the way to heaven
I found myself again
That's where I discovered
You're either out or in
Happiness without measure
Pleasure without sin
Always is when to treasure
From beginning to end
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. Mad call I it;
for, to define true madness, What is ’t but to be nothing else but mad?
-Polonius, Hamlet
On the way to heaven
I found myself again
That's where I discovered
You're either out or in
Happiness without measure
Pleasure without sin
Always is when to treasure
From beginning to end
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. Mad call I it;
for, to define true madness, What is ’t but to be nothing else but mad?
-Polonius, Hamlet
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