There once was a lout from a remote province of Lemuria who had been studying the few available texts that had made it across the impenetrable border of Elgaland-Vargaland. He ate words and nibbled inscrutably on numbers and sounds, colors, odors, the nimble carress of trans-chronistic lineage had changed him.

He made himself a drum out of his chest cavity and hit it with things. He did this out of visceral interest, the cathartic impulse to hit things is in all of us, he thought. As he did this, trying different hitting objects and eventually different drums, he found that, in spite of his lack of interest in learning, he was learning anyway. He was learning about vibrations. His brain was expelling waste via cathartic body-action, but his body, his vibrations, his speeds and slownesses were informing themselves and informing the air with certain priorities that he had not previously known to be his. He was at first happy, then not so happy.

There are simple rules: 1, 2 & 3. These crucial equations take time to learn.