“Well,” sighed Spur “Isn’t this pleasant?”  By this time, the half bottle of vodka had diminished somewhat, and a warm, softer demeanor had begun to prevail. Kopec had relaxed and his previous state of startled agitation had dissipated.  Spur continued; “My good friend, I call you friend, because even though you may think we have never met before, I actually know you quite well.” “How can you say that?” said Kopec “It’s not at all complicated” said Spur “You see, your thoughts drew me to you, and this has been going on for such a long time, I feel that you and I are very well acquainted. Not all acquaintances are begun in the material world you know.” Kopec thought deeply for a few moments. He searched his mind for anything that would indicate that his imagination could have summoned such a bizarre and exotic occurrence. He knew of medieval saints and mystics purported to have summoned and held conversations with angels and even demons, but in the current climate of rationality it seemed archaic and preposterous that such events could be repeated. Yet here he was, sitting before his own table, in his own room, conversing with what definitely appeared to be a dragon.  How could what he was thinking be bait for a dragon?  “What exactly do you mean, the material world?” he enquired. “Come, come” said Spur “I know you to be well versed in all manner of mystical investigations, for instance I know that you have a quite wonderful compendium of Cabbalistic writings and also the works of John Dee; you also possess a fine, though small, library of works investigating the subject of The Knights Templar and even The Order of The Golden Dawn.  Through these investigations, you know quite well the philosophies surrounding the mystical tree, how various states of consciousness are experienced at different levels of that tree, and that one branch is not necessarily apparent from the lower ones.   I spend quite a lot of my time on a not too distant branch of the tree; from there I survey the lower realms, and my eyes see and my ears hear much that floats up from the world of the mind.” Kopec pondered these words and at last Spur’s explanation as to why the two should be acquainted began to carry some weight. “I must admit, I have been preoccupied with many issues” he began. “I have many questions regarding what man proposes to be truth, wisdom and reality.”  “Of course you have, my friend, I have come in response to your fascination with the obsessions of the mind and I have great interest in discussing anything you may propose!”
“In that case” ventured Kopec “Let us pour another glass, and see what garden path you might lead me down!” “That’s the spirit,” exclaimed Spur thumping his claws down on the table with glee “you lead my friend, what’s your pleasure?”

 “Philosophy!” blurted Kopec “What exactly do you think of the myriad systems of ethics, morality and endeavour that the human mind has devised? Why so many, why do none seem to have the power to prevail over time?  Whenever religion fails to satisfy the mind of man and of course women, they invariably turn to some form of ethical or moral salvation or failing that, to their lower impulses from which they plunge into a form of prison, a penitentiary of the spirit. What do you have to say to that?  Are you an adherent? Or do you exist in world where all is perfect and the form remains unquestioned?” “Steady on old chap” said Spur, sipping another measure of Vodka through his beak, “you must offer an example! I can’t generalize now can I?” “Very well” said Kopec, “What about, for instance, one of my favourites, existentialism?” If Spur had possessed an eyebrow, he would have arched it. “Ahhh!  Interesting, and quite appropriate given our circumstance!  We exist, do we not?” “I exist,” said Kopec “I’m not sure if I believe you exist!” “But I must, mustn’t I? I mean, we are conversing are we not? “ queried Spur. “But I have held countless conversations in my mind with whomever I wished to” said Kopec, noting a slight annoyance in Spur’s response. “Each conversation left me doubting the assertions of the proponent, I could always think of at least one good reason to refute their claims!” “You are too clever by far,” hissed Spur “I hope you will try to keep an open mind in our situation, or else I will find our encounter very annoying!” Kopec cringed. “Forgive me, I did not mean to be rude, I must of course take the fact that you are here as a down payment on our present stake on reality. Please, another drink, and continue if you would be so kind!” Spur accepted the newly filled glass, and again sipped it down. “I shall have to watch myself, I am not used to this liquid! It is not my intention to snap at you” soothed Spur. “This is a fine garden to explore, and I fully intend to. So, back to our little walk in the garden...down the path of Existentialism then.”

 Kopec interpreted this return to apparent normalcy as his cue to begin the conversation anew.  “Spur, you are of course familiar with the works of Jean Paul Sartre?” “Most assuredly, Kopec, I cannot say I have read any specific works, books are non existent in my land, but there are no shortage of ideas, they all float up to my realm eventually. Those ideas that have the most impetus reach me first.”
“Being and Nothingness, is the volume that really formed my foundations for enquiries into consciousness and directed and non-directed thought!” exclaimed Kopec.  Spur seemed to smile a little, if indeed that is possible for one without lips, but Kopec interpreted the lilt in Spur’s countenance to indicate whimsy. “Then you are indeed genuinely concerned with consciousness and how to interpret the senses?” offered Spur “Oh, with all my passions!” exclaimed Kopec. “How fine, how fine, I am most impressed, you will allow me assume the role of Professor?” lilted Spur “And I, Kopec, will be your avid student! Let us open the classroom of the mind!”