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The Gods of Cachondeo The heroes, villains, explanations and excuses of history all wear the trappings of a thousand cultures, fears, views, wants and insanities. Descendants of countless eras and landscapes, we sing the song of victor and vanquished. Every day deeds are enacted to our credit and our shame; seldom understood or desired to be. But... Deep in the back of every mind is a door that opens onto a forest. Amid the dance of light, shade and growth lies therein the nursery of possibility where we first woke and drew the fresh breath of delight. The forest is home, a place filled with billions of portals to infinite places. It is the home of gods, Gods of seasons and celebrations, of smiles on children, of self, the smell of rain just before it falls, of mirth and sparkles on snow, raging rivers and curiosity... They ask neither adoration nor supplication. They are masters of no one and friends to all, content to create and share beauty, They are in plain sight not hard to see at all. You will recognize them when they are near, for you have known them a very long time. They wait and watch...If you step away from the noise of the crowds you will hear the voices of old friends who still call to you to come and run through the forest; for the hunt is on and all you search for lies there in wait. The ones most needed now are the Tepesquincle and the Ligtning-billed Toucan, the Gods of Lavender and Light Hearts, of dark chocolate golden berries and Cachondeo; the replacement of mundane burden and misguided attention and priority, with joy and fun with abandon. The Anti-Suck.

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