Satyr is a fly, and not one of those hip philosophical gadflies, he is a land on your mashed potatoes, crawl around it and puke kinda fly… and finds that candy bar you forgot about and makes babies in it, and they all fly around your house and into your mouth, nose and ears when asleep.
This doesn’t make any sense to you now, you think I’m full of shit and am bullshitting you… just remember this and stick around. You’ll be surprised at how accurate of a description it is.
Fear of morphologically metamorphosing into some Other parapsychology, now that the fly has been squatted (see post above) is what happened. So, whoever sees the light must be the fly then? Which dimension, if not direction (for you) did the fly go in (or perhaps toward)? Mallets are made out of wood (trees). If the malletness that just occurred were to happen in a forest, and no outsider was around, then something is beyond us, just then, chaotically governing the anarchy and absurdity of someone squashing the compass of… none other than… a folly here, as I’m leading up to… (you may have already guessed it) It’s a certain allegory.