I have put myself back in the care of the angry monk. Illicit temptations will be met with ruthless irrationality and much shrieking. I will spend my days pounding rocks with my bare hands and eating sand. I will meditate on the weak wills of mine enemies and plot a coup against my greatest foe- relativism. I will wander naked into the wilderness of the mind and emerge clothed in the chamois of inner conviction.
I will ride my bikes.
namaste and other monkly greetings.