You give but little when you give of your possessions.

It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?

And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?

And what is fear of need but need itself?

Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, thirst that is unquenchable?

There ... read more

"You are a fucking genius," we sing to everyone in the crowd below us at the Plastic Chapel. "The fullness of your divine charisma is erupting from your uncanny heart. You know the difference between stupid suffering and wise suffering. You are so in tune with your own destiny that you can be yourself even when you are beside yourself."

"And now I ask you to hold your own hand. Close your eyes and imagine gazing into a mirror. And repeat the following sacred vows to yourself.

"'I will ... read more