as it was their desire to populate and dine at an official Society that created this candidly christened club.
next, proclaim to the world that we DO exist, despite the attempts of a grey-washed world to run the middle ground of mediocrity through all peoples.
BLAST! the unriddled masses, the din! those encased in powder and makeup
without the proper amount of Chin.
blast the Apathy that roots around the foundations of Our Thought, Your Thought, the History of Thought.
the frayed socks, torn mittens,
and gaudy sweaters that breed in abundance at the back of the closet.
the wire brushes the fingerless gloves and the overabundance of electric stoves,
the eye of newt, dangling on a key ring.
demand that Our Thoughts, shall be treated with portentous, pretentious, preposterous importance.
We read and watch and think and act and consider and at times study.
We practice our writing, and hold our discipline accountable to the Club.
We twirl our mustachios.
We commence with pronouns.
We drink fine Scotch.
We speak to God, and Hope, and live and pretend and devise.
We chant odd words that take our fancy: onamonapia, maladroit, verisimilitude.