A Response to Nietzsche: The Übermensch

They have already come.  They have already breathed and died.  There have been many, actually.

There are two kinds of supermen.  The first are the political supermen.  Among these are Moses, Muhammad, and Joseph Smith, Jr.  These men all created political organizations that have lasted, and will last, the test of time.  They are the shepherds of men.  Everyone else are just sheep, following blindly.

The second are spiritual supermen.  Among these are the Buddha and Jesus.  These are men who have transcended the shit-encrusted world and attained "enlightenment."  These guys dgaf about what happens here on earth and just chill out like nobody's business.

A Crazy Idea.

I had a crazy idea tonight, so I wrote it down.  These are my notes, unedited and undiluted:

I have created the creator.  I have given birth to God!  Like my earliest primordial ancestor, I have had an original thought!

It matters not whether He is real or not.  His existence is irrelevant to our own lives.  It is the IDEA of Him that matters.

This IDEA of God is a beautiful one.  He is what unifies us.  He is Plato's GOOD.  We must view him as such.

Religious leaders before crafted their messages to unify specific populations--Moses to unify the Jews, Christ to unify the people of Jerusalem, Muhammed to unify the Arabs.  We must unify THE WORLD.

Not under dogma or faith, but under GOD.

Tell the people He loves them.  Tell them He is real.  Tell them He condemns no one--that that is not His place.  His place is to love us, every one individually, and society as a whole.

No Hell--No Heaven.  Imagine All the People, Living Life in Peace, UNDER GOD!

He will be like Santa for the children--except even the naughty receive presents!

The Gods created in goodwill by our spiritual leaders--Moses, Christ, and Muhammed--have been used against the people by the people in order to repress the downtrodden and outcast, and to glorify themselves through a SOCIAL Religion.

There will be no such things with Our new God--all will be truly equal!

The Bible, Qur'an have been used to justify hatred and pride, and to persecute and destroy.  Our new scripture will do no such thing!

There is the New Bible of our New God in its entirety:

I love you.

Bunnies.

You are all like bunnies, harmlessly hopping along.  You are chasing a horse, who is trotting at a comfortable speed, just ahead of you.  The horse is chasing a carrot, dangling above its head.  You are chasing the horse which is chasing the carrot.  You want the carrot, and the horse tells you he will share.  Little do you know, you are hopping through a whole field of carrots, the tops of which tickle your underbellies as you follow behind the trotting horse.  All you need is someone to tell you where you are, that there are carrots right beneath you, and that you need not mindlessly follow the horse any longer.

Truth: I am the horse.

Grilled Cheese

It's good.

A Clean Room.

I cleaned my dorm room today.  After 2 good weeks of chaos, my shoes are once again neatly lined up in their proper places, my desk is free of clutter and old assignments, and my dishes are clean.

There is a certain sense of empowerment that comes from seeing a room in order.

I've lived according to "nature's course" for long enough.  It's time to accept the other side of my nature--that of the social.  Living a natural life provides a nice respite from the human world, but as a human being, I must return to civilized life.  It would be against my own nature to remain a hermit forever.  I must descend from my lofty mountain abode and return to the land of the fallible.  I must clean up my house so that others will feel comfortable visiting.

It is part of man's nature to go against nature's course.  It is part of my nature to clean my room.

Confession of Faith.

I do not believe in a literal, anthropomorphic God-being who created us and determines our fate.  You could call me an atheist in that sense.  But do not for a minute believe I do not live a religious life.

I have faith.  Sometimes my faith is too strong and admittedly irrational, but it is the foma that makes me "brave and kind and healthy and happy."

Rationally or not, I believe all of mankind is essentially, at its core, good.  My reverence for God has been diverted to a reverence for the natural world, and the goodness of humanity.

Surely, you may ask, how can you believe in such a lie?  There are too many examples of evil in this world--hatred, murder, genocide!  How can you deny the evil that is humankind?

To this, I answer: all the evils of the world are simply manifestations of the individual's frustrated drive to be loved, to be good.  If an individual feels safe and loved, he will have no desire to harm another living thing, and he will in fact be motivated to make the world better!  It is when our insecurities and fear of the unknown overwhelm us that we become capable of the most horrible atrocities.

Thus, I believe that even the most hardened murderer can change if put into the proper environment.  If the rough, bitter exterior that has been built up after years and years of disappointment, insecurity, and fear can be dissolved, then the beautiful, good interior will reveal itself.  The most wonderful metamorphosis will take place--the animal contorted by pain will be transformed into his true self and realize his true potential--as a Child of God, a Manifestation of the Cosmic Consciousness, or simply as a Human Being.

This is my spirituality.  I believe in the human species.

The Secret to Happiness.

Acceptance.

A Smile.

To smile is to recognize the Oneness of existence.  It is to accept the interconnected nature of being.

A smile shared is the most sacred of sacraments.  It is to look into the other person and accept them as a part of yourself in the Unity of everything.  It is to dissolve the boundaries that exist between the two bodies and unify the identities into the natural Whole.  The Eucharist is taken to unify the Individual with the Absolute; the Smile is shared to unify two Individuals together in the Absolute, which is all around, within you and without you.

To smile is to reveal the little Buddha, or God, within you.  It is to accept the divine and beautiful inside your Self.

A smile hidden is the most sacred of sacraments.  It is to look inside yourself and accept that Self as the divine, the Eternal.  It is to dissolve the illusions of sin and suffering and to accept your sacred right as a divine being to Happiness.  The Eucharist is taken to absolve the Individual of Sin; the Smile is hidden to bring the Individual to Joy, which is all around, within you and without you.

To smile is to let go of Preconception and Attachment.  It is to accept the transient nature of the eternal.

A smile freed is the most sacred of sacrements.  It is to look inside the nature of existence and accept its impermanence.  It is to dissolve the preconceptions and attachments that have been created by the Ego and to enter once again into the Natural course.  The Eucharist is taken to cement an Individual's commitment to a Man-made Doctrine; the Smile is freed to liberate the Individual to Nature's Reality, which is all around, within you and without you.

Smile, and Be.

Cosmic Consciousness.

There it is.  The Unity.  I understand it now.  It was always there.  It's humanity.  It's the core of Us.  Underneath everything, we are One.

We all have the God (Good) particle inside of us.  It's there, wanting the best, wanting to cease suffering for everyone, wanting to burst out and unify itself with the Universe.

Deeply and purely, humans are Good.  Not good, but Good, a Goodness beyond good and evil.  A Purity that transcends the pure and impure.

We need to discover this Good inside ourselves to see it in others.  When we see it in others, we truly Realize the Good within ourselves.

What is the purpose of life?  To tear down our self-created barriers of Self and Ego, and to Unify our Goodnesses together into One Cosmic Consciousness.

Attachment.

Detach yourself from your attachment.

Say to it,

Hello.  I see you there.  Welcome to my home, you may stay as long as you want.  Remember, however, that I am the Master of the House, and you are simply a guest.

The attachment will leave once it becomes aware of its subservience.

Eggs.

Keep your eggs close--do not entrust them to baskets.

Worse.

No, you didn't hurt my self-esteem--I still think of myself just as highly as before.

You've done worse than that--you've killed my faith in everyone else.

A Messy Room.

I've decided to give up on cleaning my dorm room.  Seeing notebooks, textbooks, and miscellaneous shoes strewn haphazardly about the floor brings me an odd sense of inner peace and satisfaction.

There is a certain Harmony in Chaos that can only be viewed by taking a step back and quietly accepting nature's course.

The Natural.

Oh, human!  Abandon your temples, churches, and mosques, and make ye a Pilgrimage.   Leave your all-too-human gods and embark on a quest for true Immortality!  Establish your chapel amongst the birds and the trees, amongst the Beautiful and Lofty.  You are confined to a Human existence, my friend, and have an unquenchable thirst for the Mysterious.

Worship, then, that which is perfectly Unknowable, yet perfectly Apparent--the Natural.

Art.

Everything is an art.  Philosophy is the art of thought.  Religion is the art of spirit.  Science is the art of observation.  Mathematics is the art of logic.

The greatest and most elusive art of all, however, is the art of living, or, Happiness.

Stranger in a Strange Land, II

I am a stranger in a strange land.  I am an introvert in an extroverted world.  I like quiet, solitude, and intimate conversation.  All around me is noise, camaraderie, and loud talking.  Any one of these people I can love as an individual.  Collectively, I can feel nothing but confusion.

When I am with one, we are together.  When I am with many, I am alone.

The Girl.

I talked to this girl today.  Alright, maybe "talked" is a loaded term.  I picked up a package, and she was the one who handed it to me.  We had a very brief moment of small talk, then I went back upstairs.  The important part is not that I talked to her, or even the girl herself, but that I felt something.  I felt an attraction to someone other than Her.  Progress comes slow, but it comes.

The Hardest Part.

The hardest part is knowing that it would work out so well.  Our friendship was so awesome, and our mutual respect was so strong--I just can't shake the feeling that nothing but a beautiful relationship could be born out of such a beautiful friendship.  It's a hopelessly romantic idea, I know, but I am a simple romantic full of nothing but hope.  I know she doesn't, and probably never will, but I really wish she could see what I see.  I'm better today, but I still know that it's gonna be damn hard to let go.

Beauty Lost.

I once sat content, deep in the cave of my own mind.  Watching the shadows, thinking they were true Forms, I was convinced of my understanding of the "true" nature of everything.  But then She came.

Suddenly, I noticed the darkness around me.  I noticed the emptiness of the Forms on the wall.  I noticed my own loneliness.  And I wanted to see what She had to show me.

So, I followed Her into the light of the outside world.  At first, I was nearly blinded by the vivid Reality of it all.  What are these Forms?  What is this smell, is it really Air?  These Trees, how green, how solid, how beautiful!

But the most beautiful Form was Her.  She was Beauty.  She was Justice.  She was the Good itself.

The entire land seemed to be lighted by Her Form.  Whenever She left my side, to investigate a patch of grass, to chase a bird through the trees, or to do any number of wonderful things, I felt a feeling of twilight tugging at my soul.  I felt lonely.

But, She would always come back.  I would be stuck in my mind's twilight for no more than minutes at a time before She returned.  Further, She always returned with a bright smile that brought noonday back, and which more than made up for the time She was gone.

Despite it all, I began to feel anxiety over the prospects of Her returning.  I allowed my imagination to develop horrifying scenarios in which She got lost, was attacked by a pack of wolves, or, worst of all, found another soul to lead to the light and forgot all about me.

I tried to keep Her back one day.  She was about to run after a small mouse into a thicket of trees, but I stopped Her.  I told Her I didn't want Her to leave me, that I was lonely when She left.  The look She gave me was the saddest I have ever seen.  I could feel the pain behind Her eyes, the shock behind those slightly-parted lips, and I immediately regretted it.  

Ok, She said, I won't leave you alone anymore.  

I had gotten what I had wanted, so why did I feel so horrible?

As the days passed, She kept Her promise.  There was not a moment in which I was out of Her presence.  At first, I was happy to have Her there with me so much.  But there was always that gnawing knowledge in the back of my mind that I was keeping Her with me against Her will.

She seemed happy at first.  She smiled just as much, babbled on like the brooks we often walked along, and danced just the same.  As time went on, however, Her smile began gradually fading away, She stopped talking so much, and the dancing completely stopped.  

One day, I found Her staring at an eagle flying alone high up in the sky.  Behind it, pink clouds were superimposed on an orange sky.  It was a very beautiful sight.

I looked into Her eyes.  There was a deep longing there.  She wanted to be up there with that bird--not down here with me.

So I left Her.  Quietly, I stole away into the darkening forest.  I travelled back to my cave, and climbed to the top of the mountain under which my cave lied, for one last look at this brave new world I had experienced with Her.  

The trees, the grasslands, and the far-off sea were all bathed in a golden glow, as the sun was descending behind a distant mountain.  And there She was, flying in the lonely sky with that eagle.  But with Her, the sky seemed filled.  She was free, for I was gone.

I pulled myself away from the beautiful sight, and descended down the cliffside to my cave.  As I re-entered the cave, I heard the sound of soft laughter, carried to me by the friendly winds whose soft whispers I would never hear again.

Then, I was alone.

Morning.

Mornings are the worst, for it is in the morning that we awaken from our sleep.  Whatever dreams we had been living in disappear, and we are left in the cold light of reality with nowhere to escape.

No, you can't fly.

No, you aren't rich or famous.

No, she doesn't love you.

Stranger in a Strange Land.

I am a stranger in a strange land.  When alone, I live in the sky.  I live amongst ideals, the forms that are Reality.  For me, The Good is all that is Real.  What else is there but these beautiful, lofty things?

Sometimes, I have to descend from my lofty home, and live upon the ground with the rest.  When I look at their world, I see nothing but mirrors and shadows.  They live with mere symbols of that which I find so dear.  They seem to me to be so lost, so blinded by illusion.  I feel empty in their world.  Their symbols are empty.  Their existence relies on fleeting pleasures and on fleeting experiences.  Where is Reality here?  Where is the Eternal?

Once in a while, I find someone who I think will be able to join me in my natural altitude.  I cling to her, even idolize her, until she herself has become an object lofty and beautiful.  However, she joins me in Form only.  Then the earthly reality sets in.  I discover that she is not able to come with me, and that if I were to be with her that I must descend indefinitely and make my home on the base ground.

And thus, I ascend back to my fortress in the sky--alone.

It is a lonely life with only clouds as companions.

The Leper

I was a leper, but now I am a man.

In my youth, great things were expected from me.  My father was a man of God, and my mother was his faithful wife.  They taught me in the ways of God, and they loved me dearly.  I was to become a man of God like my father.  That all changed when I became ill.

At the age of 18, I developed a skin infection.  Soon this infection spread throughout my body, and I was declared a leper.  I was cast out of my father’s house and into the streets.  I was spat upon and kicked by those whom I had once considered my friends.  My once-beloved parents would not even look at me.

I was alone.

I lived this way for years.  How many, I do not know.  As a leper, I learned to ignore time--to bear my suffering outside of time.  For if I were to live within time, I would surely go mad.

So I suffered my sufferings in the Eternity.  I lived every moment in anguish and despair.  But I gave no thought to how much longer it would last, for I knew it would never end.

And in this way, I became bitter.  I became angry at the world.  I learned to hate my father and my mother because they now hated me.  I hated the “men of God” because they were the reason I was cast out of the city--the cause of all my suffering.  

For far greater than my physical suffering was my spiritual suffering, the suffering of being unwanted and unloved, the suffering of being Untouchable.

And so it went.  I lived each day as an Untouchable.  The days turned to months turned to years turned to an eternity.  But what was worse, is that within each year were months, and within each month were days, and within each day were Moments.  These Moments were more tortuous than any year.  For it is only within the Moment that we live.  A day, a week, even a year, of suffering is bearable, but the Moment of suffering is always too much.

I lived off alms, off the scraps of food and loose change that were too burdensome for society to carry.  They gave them to me because they needed room for greater things--for their feasts, for their mounds of gold, for their love for their children.  And I hated them for it.  I hated them that they had feasts, had mounds of gold, had children to love.  And I suffered.

But most of all, I hated their God.  I hated Him because He hated me.  He cast me out from the city, ostracized me from my friends and family.  He gave me this disease.  And-the reason I hated Him most of all-He didn’t understand me.  He only understood the Chosen Ones.  The Clean Ones.  He had no room in his heart for us.  For the dejected and downtrodden.  He Himself refused to touch us, the Untouchables.

-------------------------------

I lived Untouched and Unloved until that day.

That day, I was lying on the hard ground outside of the city, as usual, wallowing in my suffering.  I looked upon every face that passed by me with spite and bitter hatred.  No face looked back.  They never looked back.

I saw in the distance a crowd approaching.  They were a group of about 15-20 people, and seemed to be following one man, listening as he talked. 
 
I sat and watched, figuring this was one of the men of God, lecturing on the merits and mercies of his God.  Then I went back to watching the faces as they passed.  They never looked back.

The crowd stopped when they reached my resting place.

I was startled when I realized the people were looking at me.  Rather, the people were not looking at me, but at each other, wondering why they had stopped to visit an Unclean One.  I wondered also.

Then a man emerged from the midst of the crowd.  He was the one they seemed to be following.  He alone looked at me.  He alone saw me.  He alone looked back.

He gazed into my eyes for a long time.  For Eternity.  For a Moment.  And with that Moment of seeing me, he healed me for Eternity.

I broke first.  I dropped my eyes, almost ashamed, but not quite, that a man would look at me like that.  A Clean One.  However, in my heart I felt unashamed.  I felt proud, even.  Proud to be me, proud to be a man.  Perhaps I would have remained staring into those eyes forever, but I felt the gaze of the men around him penetrating our Unity.  So I dropped my eyes.

The man knelt down, I looked up at him again.  He smiled.  In that smile was Understanding.  In that smile I saw my own pain, my own suffering.  I saw my pain wrapped up in the arms of the Eternal and transformed into Joy.  I did not understand.  But that smile meant everything.

Next, he touched my hand.  I had not been touched by another person since my illness had left me a leper.  I grasped his hand with my own.  His eyes brightened and his smile grew as I did so.  He seemed to be saying “I love you” with his whole being.  “I accept you.”  He made me, an Untouchable, touched.

We sat there, hand in hand, for an Eternity.  And somewhere in that Eternity I learned to love.  I learned to let go of my hatred and contempt, and to Forgive.  Somewhere in that Eternity I forgot my suffering.  Somewhere in that Eternity I was a leper no more, and I became a Man.

We returned to the realm of time at the prompting of one of his followers.  He reminded him that he had a dinner appointment to keep.  The man looked up to look at his follower, first with a look of annoyance, but, as if he suddenly remembered something sweet and precious, he smiled again and gave him a small nod.

He looked at me one last time, squeezed my hand firmly, let it go, and stood up.  Then he left me.

He didn’t truly leave me though.  Just as the sun’s warmth is still felt on a summer’s eve long after the sun has set, his warmth has stayed with me, and even after though he no longer inhabits this earthly plane, his eyes still see me, his smile still understands me, and his hand still touches me.

I am made whole through His love.

Behind Painted Words

What is it, that hides behind so many painted words?
That of which the muses have only mused
and of which the men of science have yet to understand.

What is it, that lies at the base and at the summit of mankind's mountain?
That which is common even to the lowest of the low
and yet finds its eternal home at the peak of all things lofty and beautiful.

What is it, that has been called a "pearl of great price?"
That which the rich man will never have
and through which camels can enter needles' eyes.

What is it, that unmovable mover that puts all things in motion?
That which gives us hope and joy by its presence
and that which destroys us by its absence.

What is it, that has been said to end all suffering?
That which leads us down a path of eight folds
and that leads us into one.

What is it, that holds power enough to conquer death?
That which liberates the Romeos and Juliets
and that which resurrects the humble Jew.

What is it, that hides behind so many painted words?
That which has been bestowed on mankind as a gift
And whose nature cannot be revealed through all the painted words in the world.

Birdsong.

I know why the caged bird sings

It sings for its master

For its promised freedom

That will never come faster

I know why the love bird sings

It sings for its lover

For its illusory freedom

That comes from another

I know why the free bird sings

It sings for its self

For its actualized freedom

That comes from its own inner wealth

Ego.

During my morning shower, I meditated on a topic that many people hold very dear: the ego.  My thought process went something like this:

1.) As the sole subjective viewer of the world (as I know it), I have a tendency to look at everything, including and especially people, as objects.

2.) As objects, people and things take upon themselves set characteristics, and are defined in a somewhat permanent way following what my perceptions dictate.

3.) These perceptions are always wrong.

4.) Therefore, my view of people as objects is inherently logically unsound, and any characteristic I attribute to a person is immediately suspect as a product of my own prejudices and judgments.

5.) Thus, I must eradicate my inherently held view of people as objects, and replace it with a much more subjective view, of people as subjects.

6.) Since my view of people as objects was a purely subjective one based on my own subjective perceptions, a view of people as subjects is, in reality, the truly objective view.

7.) The only way I am able to view other individuals as subjects is to apply the lens of my own experiences to them, thus viewing the other person as myself, at least partially.

8.) So, instead of focusing on negative, or even positive, character traits that my imperfect mind merely perceives, I can focus on the inner desires and capacities that I know to exist inside of myself.

9.) In doing so, I recognize my brother and sister as myself, and elevate their needs to the level of my own as this deeper understanding is reached.

10.) And thus, I have killed my self (my ego).


When we view a person as inherently good or inherently bad, we cripple his/her capacity for growth in our eyes.  We define that person as something he/she is not.  No matter how accurate our assumptions about that person are according to our experience interacting with him/her, our picture is never complete, and we can never truly say we understand that person.  In the same way, we can never truly understand ourselves, as our behaviors, moods, and thoughts are always variable depending on our surroundings, etc.  Thus, the only truly reliable measures of human character are the inherent and universal desires and needs that are inside all of us--with the desire for love and acceptance as the most important.  If we view each other through this lens of deeper understanding, not only will our relationships be enriched and our actions more kind and understanding, but we will also be much happier.

Tea.

A lonely teashop

Displays its lonely wonders

Herbal, black, and green

A lonely schoolboy

Walks by the lonely teashop

Sips, and he is free

Marijuana, Love, and Hate.

Recently my best friend Nick has gotten himself involved in a lifestyle that he previously condemned--that of a pothead.  He's smoked almost every day for several weeks now, and has started using words like "hella" and "chill", oftentimes in direct conjunction with one another.  Needless to say, he's not the same guy I've always known.

I have always been an advocate for the legalization of recreational marijuana, though never a user myself, and have often argued with my friend about it.  Until recently, he always took a firm stance against pot, citing its "stupidity" and calling its users "shit-faces", "lazy-asses", and, my favorite, "fucking losers".

And understandably so--his ex-girlfriend of two years dumped him and then proceeded to become a huge pothead herself.  He attributed her "bitchyness" to her pot use, and from that moment on became an advocate for a substance-free lifestyle.

Of course, my friend's ex-girlfriend probably isn't a bitch, at least not more so than any other average American middle-class pretty white girl, but because of the sense of betrayal and hurt that my friend felt at the time of the break-up, she sure seemed like one to him.

It is natural for people, especially adolescent boys, to respond to bad situations with a negative attitude, and to attribute the factors that led to the bad situation to others.  It is a psychological method of coping with stress, but a negative one.  It leads to more stress, more anger, and more aggression.  In the case of my friend: he became obsessed about the break-up, and was wishing horrible things about the girl who he had just days before been fawning over.  He began to attribute obscene and ridiculous qualities to her that he suddenly realized "had been there from the start."  In a matter of moments, his greatest object of desire had become an object of repulsion.

Or had she?  Nick's hatred towards Hailey was not a repulsive power, but one of attraction gone wrong.  Many philosophers and psychologists have asserted that hatred and love are closely related, and that hatred is merely a perverted form of love, a formerly intense and positive passion transformed into a new, just as intense, negative one.

The law of conservation of energy states that energy can never be destroyed, although it may change forms.  If we apply this physical law to a person's emotions, the relationship between love and hate can clearly be understood.

As the ex-lover becomes disillusioned with his former partner, he will generally come to understand that the intense emotional investment he had entrusted to this one individual has become a failed investment, and that he must pull out now.  This massive sum of emotional capital, or energy, is left raw and unfocused after the withdrawal, and is searching for a new object to invest itself in.  The most available enterprise is most often the former recipient.

Here, the emotional capital changes forms, but maintains its intensity.  It switches from "love" to "hate" and is now transformed from a vulnerable, trusting energy into a fully-loaded machine of defense.  This was clearly the case for Nick.

As Nick scrambled to find a justifiable reason to hate his ex-girlfriend to bring his mind in-line with his heart, he chose marijuana as a scapegoat.  Thus, one girl in a matter of moments did what years of anti-drug education and "just say 'no'" tactics had only hoped to accomplish.

So, for the years following the break-up, my friend stayed completely drug free.  That all changed this summer.

Nick has never had a good family life.  His parents are distant, to say the least, and really don't take the time to understand him and his needs.  His older brother is a slob, and offers no example to be followed.  As a result, Nick has had to turn to friends outside of his family for most of his emotional and intellectual needs.

So, as this summer progressed-the last summer before entering college, a very important transitionary stage in a young man's life-Nick began to feel bored and a little bit empty.  His high school life, all the friends that he had made over the years, the reputation he had established for himself, everything would be gone.  He would have to start all over.  He couldn't turn to his family for security because, as mentioned above, they were largely dysfunctional.  So he decided to try new things.

At first it was just to try it-he had always been curious despite his cognitive and emotional aversion to the stuff.  What harm can it do?  It's just pot.  It's natural.  All this had been said before as justification by countless pot users, and now it was serving my friend as a gateway into a new life.

Before his first time he texted me, asking if he should try it or not.  I responded with the typical "I'm not going to stop you or think of you less if you do, but I don't recommend it" response and reminded him of his previously expressed opinions about pot users.

He responded, "Yeah, you're right.  I shouldn't."

He did.

And so it goes.