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Garden Path

Month: July 2018

The point of no return with nothing to concede.

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Emotions.

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Bullshit.

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Not guilty by reason.

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Like any tree that must get pruned of all of its bad knowledge every fucking hundred years, as insight emboldens, and as clarity sharpens into more accurate pictures of the truth, it follows that science is real––ly fucking stupid––to ever bet the farm on.

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