If everyone would please take their seats, I’d like to discuss a little-known, but important danger to our Enlightened Society: the hallucinogenic cactus. One moment it’s perfectly tying together Aunt Susie’s living room, the next it’s being slammed down on a makeshift operating table and crudely bisected at seven different angles by teenage kitchen-knife surgeons. Blended, boiled and strained to produce a noxious broth of ungodly potency or simply skinned like a rat in a seventh grade biology lab, this evil little succulent is made ready for consumption by sweaty-handed troublemakers all across the country.
What’s more, cacti are the second hardiest of all plants, only surpassed in survival abilities by lichen. Therefore, they are particularly hard to kill. Cut them in half and both sections can survive independently, like an earthworm from hell.
I assure you these plants exist; they are a real threat! I will not go into any taxonomy for I fear there are hoodlums in this very room that are ready to hastily scribble down any specific Latin nomenclature I might utter.
No doubt these twisted individuals would enjoy the sensation of tiny beetles crawling all over their arms and legs, the sight of a respirating bookcase or the sound of a football’s voice in their heads as it communicates with them telepathically.
But are they ready for what comes next? Are they ready to contemplate contemplation? To literally think about thinking? Because every time you think about something you put it in terms you can understand. And those terms must be in terms you can understand. So, you can never actually think about something on its own terms, in its purest form. You are looking into the reflection of a mirror within another mirror within yet another mirror and on into infinity.
If word of these horrible plants spreads, the flame of our Enlightened Society will soon be extinguished! You all must keep this information to yourselves.
Oh, and did I mention that these cacti taste terrible?
