Sometimes we become hard and cartoonish, set in habit and comfortable in thought. This world has abrasive, hurtful edges and cradling waters of pleasure. The teeth of beasts finds the creator demiurge in a fogGod of its own making, reflexively devouring itself. By course of habit and preexisting model, the fractal nature of reality, as above so below, bends its shape over creator god and human measure in similitude. Thus we shape and consume our own self-modeled-made perspectives in the light of Nature and its endless eating and preying.