PLACEBO: I Please!
Has to be a joke, jocular, juggling, jocose, get it?
Jolly, what looks like folly or worse dead seriousness,
how else relish the paradox-ologic and contra-dictorialness
that thwarts the hob goblins of my brittle mind and devils in
the details having me in thall with definitions that eclipse the
un-maculated conceptions other wise flying in to roost where
ever there’s room in the inn.
How does a placebo work, ha? Only if I don’t know it’s a placebo.
Would my terms of desire get in the way, interfere & I end up
getting only what I ask for but some how unfamiliar to me?
Placebo is a joke played by my collective conscience by the
autonomic & auto-poetic systems on my puny conscious ego
purposive-ness, my St Lucidity of the Shining Lite.
But I can’t be told what’s going on because I’d screw it up
insisting on my own flatlander terms of desire. Placebo stands
initially for Placebo Domina in Regione Vivorum: "I shall please
the Lord in the Land of the Living," the first word of the service
of vespers for the dead, a last rite for the dying.. Ego put
out of his miser-like grasping misery.
Pyche's Euphemisms.
Trick & Treat.
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