“If you cannot discern between the rarest of vintages and curdled yak urine, you may be assured that you will be consistently denied access to those wines which, were you to encounter them even once, would transform not only your palate, but your experience of being alive, forever. Indeed, you will be sold piss dressed up as every sort of refreshment.

And so it is with insight, love, intelligence, and fellowship.

Effectively, you will most probably receive what you have accustomed your faculties to process… indeed, to give you more would be an egregious overestimation of your own abilities, not to mention a tragic misappropriation of resources.

Those resources are too precious to squander, in part because their enacted effects must find fertile purchase in order to be preserved across the generations who, in general, will kill each other to maintain the status quo, rather than lend their spirits to ascent, learning, liberation, and rescue.

Develop a palate equal to the vintages you, yourselves are perfecting deep within. Or resign yourselves to the ceaseless repetition and exaggeration of various unseemly incidents in history.”

— an anonymous informant