These frustrations beset me in the world of thought, a seeming paucity of original material and inadequate means to give full play to what material I have.
Even fully aware of the chimera of originality and fully cognizant of the perpetual recycling of thought from philosopher to populace to philosopher and to mass populace once again, I can't help feeling debilitated by participation in this enormous redundancy.
That's it! I fear that I am redundant. Let me say that again....
© 1993 John Clay
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