Dr. Krumbunculus ran and ran and he kept on running until the Magically Teleporting Library was but a fog in the distance, an abberation that could scarcely be counted as existant. And then, reasonably enough, it actually teleported off, off and away, to some other faraway place to attempt to extort the price of a library card out of some other unlucky mark.

Satisfied, Krumbunculus sat youthfully down on a park bench, sighing as he noticed how little the brittle wood hurt his joints and muscles. Why, if he were old, he would’ve had to cast a back numbification spell by now—and happily so. Krumbunculus missed casting his spells terribly. He summoned up a small half glass of wine to compensate as he cracked open ‘THE POWER OF THE NONCONSCIOUS MIND: ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS BY DISSOLVING YOURSELF INTO THE COLLECTIVE ANATHEMA’ and began reading.

Author’s Statement

By Professor Doctor Uncle Professorson Doctorswerth IV

Hello, and welcome to my book. This is my book that I have written with words to be read by you, the reader. You are to read the words I have written and gleam the know-ledge within them to greater achieve your mental actual-ization. More on that later.

I started life as a humble eight legged goat farmer in the hills of Southern Orwellia. Yes, a polarizing place, and a place with very little whoreizons—literally, as the Orwellian government had implemented magical techniques to blot out the whoreizon so as to prevent eye fatigue from sunssets, which I never saw until I emigrated to Caldonia. More on that later.

One day, while milking a particularly well-endowed goat of mine, a man came up to me and told me my life was going to change forever. He was an envoy of the Orwellian government, there to tell me that my goat farm had been sold to the Orwellian government by the Orwellian government to build Orwellian government facilities on. He served me an eviction notice. More on that later.

Worse still, I fell out of favor with a witch, a witch whom I’d promised some goat milk to, goat milk which had unwittingly become the property of the Orwellian government and thus not my milk to give unto said witch. The whole witch business ended up getting me cursed. More on that later.

My life absolutely in the toilet, the figurative toilet that is, I found myself twerking the Orwellian streets, panhandling, until I was able to get a job casting toilet-emptying spells for half a chickensfeed a flush. More on that later.

My nose terribly fatigued from the ever present smell of shit, I found myself searching for cock in all the wrong places. Finally, I went to a church. Even there, though, cock could not flow through me in the way in which I desired. More on that later.

Dr. Krumbunculus rolled his eyes. This author’s statement went on for pages, and it looked like every paragraph was a bit of a laundry list of all the misfortunes the author had befallen and then a reversal after they met some bizarre foreign guru. Krumbunculus felt concern that maybe this was a sign he himself would continue on his own downward spiral until he too met a foreign guru, but he hoped highly that his life would not take such a dreadful turn. On he flipped and flipped, until Dr. Krumbunculus finally reached the first page of the first chapter of the book. Which, from appearances alone, seemed to be the middle of the book, physically speaking.

Chapter One - Grasping And Ungrasping The Unconscious’ Consciousness

The first thing you must understand is that you do not understand. When I say that you do not understand, what I mean is that you are unable to, because you are not standing under what it is you are attempting to, for, the act of attempting to stand under something makes it therefore impossible to inactuality stand under it. That is, if you understood it, you would not try to understand it, you would simply understand it, whereas if you are trying to understand something, how could you ever understand it? You’re too busy trying to understand it to actually understand it, after all!

Con-fusing? Surely. But, you’ll find in time that these words are quite intuitive. Trying is not doing, and doing is not trying. That is to say, whatever you do, don’t try! Trying is for suckers. Once again, I repeat: do not try. Don’t try at all! Trying is the way of fools, trying is the way of marks and of doofuses. Are you a doofus? Only you can say. As only you can try. But, I beseech you, do not try. Do not try at all. Only then, can you do.

The unconscious is, by nature of itself, not conscious. What does that mean? Well, you have a consciousness. You are reading this, are you not? The unconscious cannot read. Therefore, we can easily deduce that literacy cannot belong to the unconscious, indeed, it can only belong to the conscious. However, there are plenty of folks that apparently are conscious, yet cannot read. And that’s all fair enough. But it doesn’t serve the metaphor, so don’t focus on it too much.

For another thought, trying is like premature ejaculation. That is, actually, it’s more like a lack of ejaculation. You tried to yell out quite loud, but you rightly could not, because indeed you were trying too hard and your vocal chords ruptured. There are indeed many cases in the medical community of such a horrid thing occurring. Cause leads to effect.

Or…does it?

We watch an ant crawl across the floor. Another ant walks up to it. They get into a bit of a spat. Now it’s getting nasty. One of them pulled the other’s leg off and is now eating it. That’s just nasty. And then, suddenly, a human comeswalking by and steps on both of them.

Let’s blow this scenario apart, so that we might better understand it. When we do understand it, you will stand under the fact, the undeniable fact, that what you do not see is what you do get, and that you can achieve anything and everything you desire wholly and fully, as long as you do not try at all. Yes, the less you try, the more it is yours. So, whatever you do, I beg to cock of you, do not try.

Now, back to the scenario at hand. The two ants walk up to one another. What’s up with that, anyway?

Well, let’s say the ants are from two rival ant colonies that are about half a foot away from one another. You laugh, but it happens. Half a foot is a decent distance for ants.

So the two ants walk up and face one another. They’ve each woken up and walked up this same path, just at slightly different times of day, for months now, having never once encountered the other. And here they are, for the first time, seeing eye to eye.

Maybe these ants at first just feel a little awkward seeing one another. Surely, they didn’t expect for this unwanted rendezvous to happen. Or did they?

Sure, it could just be a coincidence. But, does the universe ever really function on coincidences? Ask yourself this question now, and consider your own answer.

Perhaps the ants, on their own respective routines, oft stared at the rival anthill and wondered to themselves—why do I not see a rival ant wheneverupon I walk this route?

Asking it over and over again and again in their tiny little ant minds, yes, over and over again…eventually, it makes an affect, an affect on the uncollective nonconscious antimind, and the two ants find themselves standing before one another in a curious condition of having their question answered by an awkward predicament. So, what do they do, now that they know the answer?

Of course, as we all know, ants are terribly violent. Not unlike humans. So the fighting begins, as does the aforementioned cannibalism. All the fears of antkind are in this moment made manifest in the physical realm, as if by magic. And then, at the cusp of doom and peril, when it truly could not get any worse…

Death. Death by way of the mighty, stinky foot of an irreverent, ignorant human. And thus, the ants return to cock. As we all will eventually return to cock.

But, what if, like the ants made their own hennish torture their doom and downfall, you could flip that like the side of a coin and find yourself facing the nonconsciously manifest presentation of your own joy and happiness?

That is what I am saying. That is to say, I am saying that you can. You can, that is, as long as you don’t try at all.