It's Not How You Think 'Tis

Newt Tyson, the last great Yell Pony of the great western slopes of California, took off his thought balloon to bemuse himself a bit. Then a laser came and that was aweful. Full of awe, that is, by the meaning of the first of the word, the man was struck by awe of it.
"Pooleez!" scooted he of the pony, and immediately begin to write down those emotions. The flutter of the lightnings, the bemoan of the nightcamel, the other things, too. It seemed like so many thoughts were going up and around in his head, or in his mind. It was all because of the laser. But whence had it come? And why?
Well, thought Newt, we must linger it.
And so he did, and it was a long time after that the source became known.
It came about as such:
The day was Hatday, middle of the month, end of the weekend. He found himself in the foundry negotiating a new bridle, when the person of Jena Jwaough came over to him, and said so in her sing song voices, :I (la lo la) did zap (lee la loo...do l ado no lateena!) that la-(hay ha hee ah ha ha) zer!
"goodnite" said Newt, and he then and there took her hand for marriage. And the rest of his days were spend working with they pony and then sometimes SOMETIMES his wife would have the laser go and then his mind would expand.
One of these times he saw the future, and tis this:
The plesiopods and the saurothons and the mesotrophs and the arbotrachiacs came to the consensus that they were their own god, and therefore prayed to themselves for the betterment of their lives, and then sang to themselves for thanks for their betterment and then made themselves clean so to better present themselves to themselves, but then cursed themselves when smashed their thumbs in the doors, and then became complacent with themselves, and then questioned their own existence, and then stopped thinking abou themselves at all, and then hated themselves and then destroyed themselves.
Newt had a headache after that, so he went and slept beneath the Rose of Jericho in the backyard.