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On a more sophisticated level of discourse, our age desires Tezcatlipoca, not the fuddy-duddy Quetzalcoatl: the fascinating, irresistible, razmataz of the "observed of all observers."
If this is sheer gobbledegook to you, I apologize, and I guide you to Bailie's Violence Unveiled, or, for a fictional didactic version, The Dionysus Mandate.
Either way, you and I find ourselves in the maelstrom of the primitive sacred, this masculine "season of the witch," called the presidential campaign '08. Hang on to your hat, and pray.
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