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To all the gods I loved before
Towards a theory of anarchotheism An I used to talk to plants. I have a distinct memory of when I was about seven, holding the leaves of a flowering bush at school, talking to them. I would imagine that the plants would have emotions or even sentience, would hurt when they were plucked or harmed. This might sound a little silly, the sensitivity of a child that didn’t know better, but that is also the point: what lives and moves and has its being beyond our empirical world, beyond the grasp of cold rationality and naturalism, is also often what…

