9 Weed Whacker Mead

Yes, I confess it ... this is my favorite title of all. One word (this time around, to fit nicely on the cover image), two words, sometimes a hyphen even; you'll meet him inside, nibbling away at the sad record of the output of the human brain to date, muttering to himself and DETERMINED to clean up the patch if it takes him all day. This is not ACTUALLY fair to WEEDS, which are after all only plants that dare to grow where WE don't want them. THESE 'weeds', sadder than sad, are exactly WHAT WE WANT, WHERE WE WANT THEM: our cherished delusions, superstitions, excuses, rationalizations; but the limbic system, luckily, does not believe that a little lamb is much of a threat; after all, MARY had one of those, and if you've read "Lamb", you'll know how THAT turned out. So go, lamb! ... WHACK those weeds, and clear some space for, ugh!, dare I say the word ... LOGIC ...