In trimming next few chapters, I was at my most ruthless. Writing self reflectively, you spin a lot of bum fluff about the process of writing itself, which I decided to spare you. Don’t mention it. Thanks for the applause.
I couldn’t, however, eliminate it all. It was/is important to give my reasons for choosing to write. I already mentioned that it wasn’t for money, and yet it was partly for selfish and fanciful reasons. Mainly though, I couldn’t see my meme spreading on its own. It needed a (reluctant) champion: Muggins.
The writing process segues quite nicely into aberrant thinking, of which, in my opinion, belief is an example. To promote my creed of disbelief, I then utilize the services of an unexpected guest. Stephen King’s Cell is another of that chain of books that linked up with my thinking at the time. (Such serendipity has happened so often that I no longer regard it as extraordinary.)
Einstein pays us another visit; he is getting to be a regular here. I’ve arranged our itinerary so that we pay a brief visit to the attic up in my head. That’s another image that we’ll be returning to. And it also leads us to the so-called past when I zap the reader with three powerful thought experiments. One after the other, they’ll never know what hit them.