Preface: Manifesto

What follows is a series of descriptions of the Manifesto of Truth in the Universe
The preface begins with a story of the Man who wrote it:

Letter bound for the coast beyond: I could have chosen wrong,

but I was confident that this genius's prose was strong.

I needed his ideas to percolate. 

He pleaded with God, but I knew the pen was used to flirt with Fate.

A centrifugal aura surrounded his Reasoning.

Of course the amounting beliefs of the crowds were seething

as riots abounded with violent doubts and grievances.
I dance through the causeways of Peace, and

this couldn't have come at more substantial a pace. 

No mechanical basis: a meta-truth conception-Proof with

simply intangible frames split by enchanting arrangements.
Some used to call him the Black Magician with language.
The most entrenched of the mystics used to insist he was dangerous.

Logical constructs. Philosophical omnibus

with more danger on each page than an Eastern tsunami.

Such resplendent puns to reveal or expand the lease,
for ideological real estate's just as volatile as land and sea...
or bricks and mortar during the most vicious wars.
And that is where we're headed it seems. Demanding peace,
he wrote The Treatise: a series of interconnected decrees:
And I only paraphrase.

"Because of our plummet into chaotic stress, one might suggest,
that if God we're almighty; if he caused all that I've been led
to believe, he'd at least have the courage to show himself.
If he creates us, he is greater by definition:
But we're the created, utilizing senses... living.
Our perception... the extended presence of our minds,
wouldn't just reach out and snag a semblance of divine...
ostention.
He's either beyond, or super-immanent. 
Imposed upon us with the strength of Truth and Wisdom."

His agenda was to instantly attack religion.

He knew that postmodern societies were on the cusp,
simply of cataclysm.

His crux was action driven; 

to place the hearts and minds of the masses in Logic's region;

He wanted to make sure that God could see Him.

But reason often steered his stratagems,

even though he spoke out against reason itself after it:
I can only paraphrase:

"Reason is a filter that information passes through.

Similar to emotions... situated to distract us.

Proof is in the classic argument between the sexes.

The reason for apocalypse, a clash between lives.

The reign of opposites.

Paradoxical. Chains of straining common sense

leading the mind out of range. Inherent obstacles to progress.

The pain of dominance. Reason is as it doesn't do."

He spoke of demons disguised as angels.

His paradigm was strange, 

he'd stare as if blinded by the light of day,

then retreat to his den to write the meaning of life. 

They say, genius is often extracted from same vein as madness.
A linguistic stronghold arranged in matrix patterns.

He was prophetic, yet couldn't envision the haze.

Just episodic nightmares with no one to witness the strange.

Until today.