Be Doing what you like to do. I like chests. Er-r, I don't think that's what Holstee Manifesto was getting at, exactly. But as a paraphrase it could apply to what old hippies meant by "letting your freak flag fly". It challenges the new reality that you might have to go on unemployment if your Facebook page contains unmentionables. Or that you have the words to In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida tattooed on your inner thigh. It was so much easier when you were OK if you wore a shirt and tie to work and slicked back your hair. But then guys started with those gold chains - what was with that? Flying some kind of flag. Doesn't matter now. OK to like chests for art purposes not unlike bullnosing around your headlights on your rig or clipping your privets in the shape of Madonna.

So after recommendations for shitty movies, cover band concerts and television drek, you get to wonder if people who know you really know your self like we know our selves. This author writes about our remembering self and our experiencing self . Seems like a distinction much like conscious self and subconscious self. I'm too far along to wonder which one of these is working its magic when all the good stuff is happening around me. I'm sticking with my chest self because that's been my loyal companion just about all of my life. Many a stirring magic carpet ride began with rack and penis steering.