Obligatory "ignore this space" : https://sacoronavirus.co.za

Thinking about a political map of the world, I firstly think about the adjective I've just used. It's a bad habit that comes about from thinking with a Shakespearean tongue. Mostly I like to read books written by people who didn't stare at a globe of the world and imagine themselves in space, but some authors truly did get me thinking about what came before people: how long have we been walking the earth?

Thinking that we have evidence of evolution right in front of us, it must be noted that there are three possibilities when how something works is top secret: firstly, the people who built it are keeping us in subjection; secondly, the aliens who built it are leading us to our own destruction; and finally, that it is a new form of life that will consume us all. Isn't it so much fun to look at what's behind the words?

If we try to describe the most rudimentary of search databases, we'll only be providing another reason for the word overcountable to go on being used. If I were to start to look at the structure of my own text I would do myself a favour and index my cliches. But this is already my overcountabl'th cliche; so I can be certain I'll jump a Greek if I allow myself to think about what comes afterwards.

If I describe myself looking at myself, which half are you going to look at?

If I describe a person looking at a spinning globe, will you accept that the windows of the room are planes?

The man in the room, if he has a virus, will probably just reinstall. The thought of being injected with microcomputers entered his head; the syringe next to him suggests he was injecting himself with something; but presently he was just having his tea: draining his cup, he thought he heard voices amplified through it. So he brought himself closer.

'Take a look again at that three-dimensional object that we might encircle with a circle no matter which way we're looking at it! That's here! That's us!'

The neighbours heard a loud crash and then a thud. Thinking it nothing more than the irascible old man next door, they went on with their conversation. What the man heard when he jumped over the wall to fetch his ball, was actually just, 'don't forget to wash behind your ears.' But the Institute that keeps on reminding us that we haven't gone anywhere, prefers for us to look at a cow.

Or perhaps they prefer us to feel like one.

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