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Raised Spirals

Raised Spirals

On a crisp winter night in a cozy Peoria watering hole with ten close friends, we hovered over ten glasses of pure Discovery Juice. While pondering life, liberty, and the pursuit of something, we intellectually full-circled to what intrigued us the most...then, at that moment.

The mysterious condom machinery bolted to the walls in the restrooms suddenly morphed to enigma status. We agreed to accept them into our collective subconscious and solve some riddle about them.  Admittedly it required another stiff swig of Discovery Juice to get into the mood...kinda the opposite of Arnold Schwarzenegger pulling the orb from his nose in Total Recall...and we were up for the task.

Over the extra round, the machines became archetypes. We seemingly could think about them as one in group consciousness. They engulfed us in a comatose hypnotic state just by looking at them, even when we were not relieving ourselves a collective thousand hundred times over the last twenty years. In short,…

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