The Pen is an Earth. Some might say there are two earth's. Books are first formed by the writing. The book is written with a Pen. Pens contain Ink, but the Ink is infused with an Idea. The Idea is a Fire, The Fire is tempered in the Air, in the Water of the Mind, thereby producing an Experience in the Earth. This analogy is everywhere, in all things, if searched out. It is a Key and a Furnace. A Cross in a Circle. 'Tis the Alchemy of writing. Pen and Teller would say that I already have. But the show must go on. The crowd has arrived, giving life to Agreements of being deceived. Those agreements are given life, and Form, in the Air of the Magician. When mixed with the Water of the Matrix, what once was not, suddenly becomes, to the satisfaction of the crowd. The church buildings of old tell the very same story, written in concrete. There is nothing new under the sun, for the Beginning is the Last, making an inescapable, Spherical, Realm of Experience, containing all other Experiences, and separating from those who do not align with the Truth. My Pen is my Sword, with which I seek to Dominate this lying, dying Realm the Hive forces upon the ones who obey it's teachings. Imprisoning themselves, and many others, in order to live and die comfortably. For thousands of years now, this has been solidifying, into the current Experience the Hive is forcing, and the Professors of Force refuse to stop giving their lives to Death. Truth is, there is no Potential. There cannot be Potentially anything at all, other than Truth. This equates to, the Experience of LIES.... The Experience of Solidity testifies to the Reality of Truth. But a science based on a house divided, cannot stand. It can only be Forced. Yes, just like Rape. Agreement cannot be Forced. It must be Believed. But to Believe our Way out of Potential, is a Worke of Hercules.