The little boy who cried #$*#@!


My metamind was hard at work last night.  I woke up from a sound sleep, after a vivid highly logical dream.  I may talk about that another time, but I had a second insight.  Sort of a eddie in the sea of unlike things.


You should recognise this by now as the comparison between a psychopaths mind and an empaths mind when shown an emotionally charged word.   You know like ones George Carlin used to like to razz humans about.

So I got to thinking about manners. You know that old axiom that “Etiquette is the invention of wise men to keep fools at a distance.”  But why?   Well suddenly it seemed pretty obvious.  It looks like your metamind is exploding in that picture.  Who wants to be teetering on the edge of revelation, only to have an emotion-explosion completely detail your fragile insight.  Like adding three of the letter X into any web search.  Instant garbage.

I can think of a fairly critical use.  When someone hurls a colourful metaphor,   (usually involving a body part, a bodily fluid or a possible use of said parts) they suddenly have the attention of every empath in the room.  Sort of like crying ‘wolf!’  I guess Peter was a potty mouth too.

Can’t be using those words on the news.  Fragile remapping may be interrupted.  Everybody might look up and start asking the tough questions.

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