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How do you plan the future that's already happened? You don't mention what's going to happen. Funnels and siphons are the tools of the trade. Model the toroid first and then you'll use them wholeheartedly.

I will give you the paint-by-number set but you have to wet the brush yourself. Take an LLC that has the right to contribute to campaign funds and its legality is free for precedental matters.

I avoid some futures by sharpening the horns on the bull in the China shop. I know they'll come after The One. With rove rage in bittorrents. Why do you think I've predicted the Great Purge? To eliminate waste, take the denominator out of the persuasion.

We'll plant the steak in the ground, give you fields of forest lawns, calm as the space between walls of a hurricane.

Threaten me with forest fires and I'll teach you about spontaneous combustion. Put a piece of meat in a bottle and the fruit flies in circles.

A beach erodes unseen at night. An island rises and slips into the sea. Plate tectonics like their toll cookies. You're wasting your time if you're looking at me.

Why do pied pipers smell good to rats? Because the wind doesn't blow. Blow is quantifiably vortexable, sucking up citizens like a lizard the sun, breaths tiny bellows stoking the fire.

You want the fast-paced life of a star but deny your children their fix. Everything is what it seems - they'll pack their own lunch. An army won't be able to stop them, the sieve permeable, not permutable, let alone permittable.

Watch the one who parties but doesn't participate. Watch your watch, too, for that matter. When someone wants the time, they'll take it from you.

I sketched the drawing for you, putting One's face everywhere so you can see what happens when you purge its image, wiping the whole canvas white. Bleached. Sanitized. Flip on the tube and look at a holodeck. Nothing but patterns, artificial lights, camera, action.

Now you see why I'm here. The One's not The One. The One's a tool, your future in a history book. Purge one and the other's toast. Butter or jam? You know which side always hits the floor.