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It turns out… That books are far more reliable… Than people… A copy of Lila… Turned up… Out of nowhere… And prompted a memory… The prequel… Zen… Was gifted… By Fee… Of all people… All those years ago… There may even have been an inscription… In the front… Long gone now… Of course… Long gone now… But quite when… And where… And how… Is anybody’s guess… Phaedrus was partly responsible for the Philosophy… And Literature degree… After which it became… Fashionable to be snooty about… Such hip origins… Arr Em… Was not a canonical author after all…
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And never would be… Had the book… Been made into… A film… Things might have been different… But Pirsig… After negotiations with Redford… For the role… Got cold feet… And who really can blame him… What would Hollywood… Have made of such philosophical ramblings… It is hard to say… But it pretty much consigned… The sequel… To the bargain bin… Of books… After a brief bout of nostalgic interest… Which is a shame… Because in someways… It is a far better book… Than the first… And the analysis of our current plight… Is incredibly prescient… Do the elites read such tomes?… Silly question.
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They only read books… Written by aristocrats… Old money… And old blood… Which is not to say… Blood money… They go… Hand in hand… Old bean… Hand in hand… Dancing over the horizon… Together with all their dreams… Of a drastically reduced population of plebs… Fear of people… Fear of discovery… Fear of soul… Fear of soil… Soil is dirt… That is… The flesh… Of the earth… They do not really belong here… That is now obvious… For all to see… Along with their nefarious plans… For a prison planet… Not content… With a slave planet… It is called… Over egging… The pudding… End of.
France & Vincent 