Sometimes I indulge myself in safaris which no other being may take. I strike
inward along the axis of my memories. Like a schoolchild reporting on a
vacation trip, I take up my subject. Let it be . . . female intellectuals!
I course backward into the ocean which is my ancestors. I am a great winged
fish in the depths. The mouth of my awareness opens and I scoop them up!
Sometimes... sometimes I hunt out specific persons recorded in our histories.
What a private joy to relive the life of such a one while I mock the academic
pretentions which supposedly formed a biography.

-- The Stolen Journals
--[god-emperor]--