"Did you hear the one about the solipsist and the palimsest?" I replied that I had not. "well, you see, there was once a solipsist who owned an original manuscript of Neitsche. The solipsist absurdly claimed the palimpsest was a figment of his imagination, a p-zombie. But the palimsest was the Master of Zomb. "You must empty your thoughts." he said whil e urging Luke to lift three stones using the force. Luke trembled, sweat poured down his head, then the demanding little vindictive green monster Yoda demanded to be carried over to his hooka again. Luke's training had plateaued three weeks ago but Master Yoda's winter stockpile of Shire leaf wasn't yet fully assembled. "Roll up a another joint you should" said the old green Jedi Master. Luke was unsure about fighting any more hallucinations of Darth Vader, but at this point he was too high to argue. He did his Jedi wrist flick at the kush on the landcruiser's dashboard. Once he had it in his Force fingers he gave his cyborg hands a twist and sniffed the kush's ultimate toke. "Alright, motherfuckers," said the Naboo royal guard. With one shot from the Gungan's precision inanima blaster, the illicit recreational self-harm chemical device was vaporized. A great roar of joy rose up from all the spectators. The Royal Naboo Guardsmen hoisted him up on their shoulders and carried him triumphantly through the streets. But a small child did not join the spectators roar of joy. He was too preoccupied by the Guardsmen's expressions of pure hopelessness - and could literally feel their melancholy seeping into the soil and slowly dripping into the groundwater. He sighed. The spectators would not be joyful for long--melancholy was highly contagious. So he packed up his bags and left

 

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