Some days when cleaning the pool, thoughts of why we're all a little crazy become more clear. Today the culprit is DSM-IV, the manual of the psychiatric empire containing all the known mental health disorders. It suddenly reminded me of the Bible, The Book of Mormon, The Qur'an, the Bhagavadgita and Abbie Hoffman's Steal this Book. My adept motion of tickling the doobies strewn along the pool bottom so that they'd elevate enough for the screen to capture them triggered the realization that solipsism is the I'm OK You're OK of this antediluvian sidetrack now upon us. If we truly take what each day gives us, then Lehigh beating Duke rectifies the awful cards that just won't seem to leave the table. My Oedipus complex trumps the missing eye-hand coordination that minimized any tennis prowess and yet I found the promised land. It granted me nobility and a stunning view of Lady Banks roses. All those words of other people need correction by this pure awareness I stumbled into, the one that conclusively and indisputably refutes the contradictions in all those others' words. The pool is clean. See how it clears up the mind pool, too?