Diagnosis and Treatment:

I had a very bizarre dream recently.

Inexplicably, though not for the first time, I was employed by my secret society to serve as a professional driver. About suburban San Diego I drove daily in a tan car referred to as a High Lander, in search of lost dogs, that they might be returned to their owners for a ransom (which had been referred to by my coworkers as a Taxation upon Negligence). Though both my physical skills and judgement were poor, I was selected for this occupation because of my surpassing Knowledge of magik and my ruthless, unscrupulous attitude towards being the bearer of bad news for poor people. It was challenging, stressful and risky.

I enjoyed that about it. But the heyday was behind me. The turning point came to me when a tiny whelp, once of a surpassing loyalty to me, eluded me. I chased it all the way back to my South Node, only to discover that the whelp was picked up by a rival driver who looked just like me. It was at this moment that I realized that one of the two of us had to die. And then my teeth began to fall out.

I drove North, past a sign that read “You are Now Leaving Gemini, Land of the Evil Twins.” I found a Dental Office at 673 Dental Damnation Street, situated upon the eighth floor, just above an Office that read “Crowns and Fillings”.

The D.D.S. informed me that my entire problem had me at its epicenter, and that it was my absence of basic compassion for Others, coupled with my obsessive and incisive intellect, that was to blame for both the gravity of my situation and for the loss of those same bloody incisors. I tend to lower the vibration everywhere about me, draining emotion through the loophole and the crevasse of fear, finding only fault or use in Others. I wanted to contest that by finding fault with me he demonstrated a Common Guilt, but my protest was impeded by the inconvenience of toothless gums. Any way: he was the Boss, apparently.

He told me that I was a fool for thinking I could attain a Common Good by sacrificing the underprivileged, and in the wake of such transparent self-interest my plaints (that it was someone else whose personal agenda had self-interest At Heart) had lost their bite entirely. My last recourse was to enlist within the Service. So I did.

Doctor Knows best.

[({Dm.A.A.)}]