You expect me to clean up all this mess for you? Do me a favour.
The emblematical pastry of the period, the moon cake, has for its ingredients a little bit of everything grown during all the seasons of the year. […] Indeed, it is the nearest thing to pie the Chinese cookery affords. Bits of pork, cabbage, pumpkin, figs, fruit and fowl baked together in a cast-iron crust, seasoned with pork fat, may not be appetizing to the Caucasian taste, but they tickle the palate of a Chinaman into epicurean laughter and make him believe he is enlarging his mind proportionately with his waist.
So when you have to write two columns a week that are going to be read by a lot of people around the world, you can't just mail it in. You're thinking all the time.
The ego is still there and thus the unconsciousness as well, but one is temporarily unconscious of the fact that there is a seam between ones ego and any other holonic faction.
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