Blame. Game. It’s actually quite crooked you know. Being blamed for things. I think people who mostly blame others for even the simplest issues are upset about something else and blaming someone is the quickest way to dis-acknowledge your own sorrows and transfer them into some other thing. It’s like an urn or a vase secretly containing ashes or dirt and just the outer solidity, intricacy and the stability of the container soothes us that are secrets are not contacted or contracted —- because secrets are harder to cover than venereal diseases. Wanna teach the basic three states of matter; pour some water on a vase and switch on some fan to disrupt the water surface tension; that way the kids learn set theorem basic functionality, paradox, interconnections and logic-unlogic of the psychological and natural world. It also illustrates a dimensional grid for computer programmers and artists and physics students — but sorry for the digression; blame is something that at times digresses too. Digresses from the main crux and reasonability of the situation. Praxis of blame is usually, in my experience, frustration and sadness. Also, a keen, nagging fear. Fear is many a times non-standard; that is why people oft opt not to talk about it. Like the sixth sense (minus sense think along the lines, metaphorically, X-Files sixth extinction or something) movie no one wants to confront ghosts or clearly confront the act of understand the tragedy of ghosts. Finally, the poor man does go mad not from the act of seeing but from the act of living with a world systematized to not care or empathize. To no believe in anything other than profit — the word profit is now being used in some secular perversion of the religiosity that we hate. Thus how do we profit from ignorance? We are complacent and loving to gain grades — in school we anatomize people’s accomplishments by being grade schoolers or class schoolers or at times elevate them based on that institute of performance. Nowadays a prodigy fits that calling — if she/he excels in a age group thing we are happy but truth is genius cannot easily abstract itself to such detailing. Blame excludes details it just is an onlooker, at times, of stats porn. Of the range we think ought to be someone’s ability and we like to keep them there. Mobility is liked when it devolves or is in stasis any patterns of checkered prints or fluctuation like a bird in humming flight is to be eradicated. Nagging blame does not like any true reason or passion; it is just a merchant of alms and not a artiste of clouds and soil.