Okay, I have to come clean that for the past several weeks, reading the posts of Sue and responding to him have had me in stitches of giggle-fits that have sometimes brought tears to my eyes. In the alphabet of ‘wits’, he is an F, and it seems that we both have an alphabet where one of them is back to front and he wants to argue that his ‘i’s are before my ‘r’s. But my ‘r’s will always be in front of his ‘i’s.
My alphabet is the wrong way around…Zs before As…you gotta sleep on stuff in order to make a top grade, and after the first few weeks of playing in here, I thought I would be here for about 6 months to make a point. I made a few points along the way but it seems that there really is no need to prolong the charade any further towards the bigger point.
If you have been following some of the things going back and forth between Mr Sue and others and myself, you would have watched him slowly but surely make simple mistakes in how he presents himself. I had to step away from my laptop the other day when he said he was a skilled touch-typist for the past 60-odd years despite being blind in one eye and only peripheral vision in the other. Yes…he can navigate each and every page on this site and any site by having an instinct for where to place the mouse, especially for quoting folk and copy-pasting their words from their posts between the quotation marks; styling font effects; editing his own posts quite well while missing out on other simple things; and most certainly having multiple conversations with folk like it was instant messenger.
Even a blind man can see that some things do not add up. Mr Sue has his own rule – and measure: the Huff-n-Puff. I also have a measure: the Guffaw. But one Huff-n-Puff equals three Guffaws. Try that out for size…and Mr Sue suddenly discovers that he has been weighed and found wanting.
He should have tried tapping ‘Kegs of Beer’ or ‘Oil Wells’ instead of a ‘Freshly Drilled Hole’, because that was sealed right under his nose.
This isn’t a simple case of Black or White but a Gray area. The Gray area is the size of this playground in here and how many masks are worn by a mentally unstable person surrounded by the smoke of his own imagination, brought on by a split personality disorder. To successfully navigate a fracturing mind, one needs to create personas in order to house and express those splintering parts of the mind…and sometimes one addiction is taken over by another: having personas all be right at the same time. But things were left.
That’s when mistakes get made. That’s when you end up apologizing to yourself…end up talking yourself…end up creating more personas and a very small world.
Well, as I’ve oft-times said, I am a crazy clown perpetually dreaming in my Fun House full of mirrors, where one moment you don’t know if you are seeing your own reflection or seeing the warped portrayal of yourself in the reflections of others. I know my surroundings are not me but I can be my surroundings at any moment…immerse myself in them…look through those eyes…walk in those shoes…and suddenly make the mirror become a window where I am looking right through someone not just at them, right between their eyes or at the back of their head. Yeah, many trips down to the River have me accepted as a strange duck by ducks, and they don’t mind me…birds of a feather and all that.
I did say that in this game of darts on a roller coaster that I wouldn’t know if I got Bull’s Eyes or a cow’s butt until the ride was over; and I did say that I got one of each and the last dart hit the main player right in the back of the head and he didn’t even know it yet. Well, I am sure he knows it now. And I am sure that others will awaken to what it is they have been watching all this time…what it is that has been advertised to make them think that some things are bigger than what they appear or other than what they seem. It is a Gray area, after all…and Black and White.
I have a technicolour dream coat on and the world is most certainly a kaleidoscope of potential and fact. Colours all over the place. And this is where I take a bow to the world’s smallest violin that is playing just for one person. Can you hear it? It has ten notes arranged in a circle. And the circle is completed. Time for a new tune, me thinks…somewhere over the rainbow or behind another curtain of wonder to pull aside and reveal a Wizard to be just a man out of time and place…another play with a title and a script but all the lines are ad-libbed…as usual.
I like plays, where there is only one rule: if you wear a mask, it will most certainly be ripped off in the last scene.
I’ll step aside for the moment and come back for an encore once the shouts of disbelief die down. But please, check your programmes for the unnamed Director responsible for the show…it’s Their stage we are on.
Cheers! And Namaste…I SEE you. I love you. You are funny. You make me laugh. And laughter is always the best medicine…it helps one to love thy neighbour, no matter how much they kick your fence-posts. Well…it is a fine line between aggression and humiliation…but the outcomes are the same.
Ps: and that’s how you change someone’s flat tyre…by swapping it for a light balloon to expose the elephant in the room making an annoying sound before the Secret gets out. And something is dribbling down someone’s legs... KABOOM! Oh, what a funny word…BAM-K and two wide open eyes…Oh, that’s me…but I’m clean-as…an ammunition-proof vest that turns things into candy floss to clean my teeth after having a good feed. And now I’m full.
Okay…one more guffaw:
An illustrious head in the clouds.
A Wizard in Oz out of somewhere else? Cool…welcome to MY world…the world of the ‘Which Is’...
Your Humble Servants, Glinda and the other three.