Kacee Copus > Recent Status Updates

“Your good looks are gone” I told him. “But you mustn’t worry about it. This unsightly condition is only temporary. Don’t be sad. Don’t fear. I will place you somewhere where the fish and birds can strip this broken flesh. It will soon be gone. Then you will be a handsome skull and handsome bones.”

He says that we’ll have the power to control lesser minds. Well, to begin with, there are no lesser minds; there are only him and me.

“I realized that the search for the Knowledge has encouraged us to think of the House as if it were a sort of riddle to be unravelled, a text to be interpreted, and that if ever we discover the Knowledge, then it will be as if the Value has been wrested from the House and all that remains will be mere scenery. “

“It took him to its apartment near the river, over a bicycle repair shop and next door to the Hope Eternal Gospel Mission, which was pretty full up, tonight. All over the world the various gods were being requested, more or less politely, for an explanation of what had occurred between 6:25 and 7:08 P.M. Pacific Standard Time.”

“Then this world will be like heaven, and men will be like gods!”

“You don’t suppose you’d be allowed to do anything you weren’t supposed to do, do you? Who the hell do you think you are! There is nothing that doesn’t fit, nothing happens that isn’t supposed to happen. Ever!”

“To a better world!”

“Orr was not a fast reasoner. In fact, he was not a reasoner. He arrived at ideas the slow way, never skating over the clear, hard ice of logic, nor soaring on the slip-streams of imagination, but slogging, plodding along on the heavy ground of existence.”

He was relaxed giving instructions to workmen and shopkeepers, but he was uneasy when he had to be on the level with people without formal education. He did not know what terms of reference he should be using. Or it was simply contempt, or a little of both.

I use the journals mostly to remind myself of the sequence of events, in which memory is notoriously weak. The past, jumbled in the mind, survives its own special tense, a form of ahistorical present.

A journal, whatever its quality, fixes events like beads on a string.

He dominated people with his own style of reasoned kindness. There was no scheming. He did not even know he was doing it. He was logical and he cared. It was obvious to him that the one he cared for should do as he suggested.