But there is no eternal goal. Every attempt to find an eternal goal puts the tail of the serpent into his mouth again, whereby he chokes himself in one more last gasp. What is there then, if there is no eternal goal? By itself, the river of life just gets nowhere. It sinks into the sand. The river of life follows the living. If the living don’t get anywhere, the river of life doesn’t. The old serpent lays him down and goes into a torpor, instead of dancing at our heels and sending the life-sparks up our legs and spine, as we travel. So we’ve got to get somewhere. Is there no goal? “Oh man! on your four legs, your two, and your three, where are you going?”--says the Sphinx. “I’m just going to say _How-do-you-do?_ to Susan,” replies the man. And he passes without a scratch. When the cock crows, he says “_How-do-you-do?_” “_How-do-you-do Peter? How-do-you-do? old liar!_” “_How-do-you-do, Oh Sun!_” A challenge and a greeting. We live in a multiple universe. I am a chick that absolutely refuses to chirp inside the monistic egg. See me walk forth, with a bit of egg-shell sticking to my tail! When the cuckoo, the cow, and the coffee-plant chipped the Mundane Egg, at various points, they stepped out, and immediately set off in different directions. Not different directions of space and time, but different directions in creation: within the fourth dimension. The cuckoo went cuckoo-wards, the cow went cow-wise, and the coffee-plant started coffing. Three very distinct roads across the fourth dimension. The cow was dumb, and the cuckoo too. They went their ways, as creatures do, Till they chanced to meet, in the Lord’s green Zoo. The bird gave a cluck, the cow gave a coo, At the sight of each other the pair of them flew Into tantrums, and started their hullabaloo. They startled creation; and when they were through Each said to the other: till I came across you I wasn’t aware of the things I could do! Cuckoo! Moo! Cuckoo! And this, I hold, is the true history of evolution. The Greeks made equilibrium their goal. Equilibrium is hardly a goal to travel towards. Yet it’s something to attain. You travel in the fourth dimension, not in yards and miles, like the eternal serpent. Equilibrium argues either a dualistic or a pluralistic universe. The Greeks, being sane, were pantheists and pluralists, and so am I. Creation is a fourth dimension, and in it there are all sorts of things, gods and what-not. That brown hen, scratching with her hind leg in such common fashion, is a sort of goddess in the creative dimension. Of course, if you stay outside the fourth dimension, and try to measure creation in length, breadth and height, you’ve set yourself the difficult task of measuring up the Monad, the Mundane Egg. Which is a game, like any other. The solution is, of course (let me whisper): _put his tail in his mouth!_