3.11.2007

doin that crazy hand jive

I think I was given a nugget of info; I woke up and thought to myself bla, bla, bla...
But methinks I want to be a trifle nostalgic when presenting it this time. For once, I'm going to try it in the style of past writings where the information is presented in a fictious setting, as in a novel, or in dialogue.
For example: As I strolled along the beach I noticed Socrates had his foot buried in the sand. "Is your foot stuck in hole?" I asked of him, "or have you buried it?"
His fiery red cheeks and bulbous nose turned scarlet as he fumed, "Sod off, you little gripper!" and threw his empty flask at me. The bottle connected soundly on my forhead, and suddenly I got a good idea...
Know what I mean, like Camus and his exsistenchalism, or eccliasticity or whatever. And Walden...or was that Waldo? ....Where IS Waldo, anyway?
I digress.
As I drifted into conscienceness, the vivid dreams which danced all night melted like snow to a fire, and like the water which disappears into the soil, so my dreams were forgotten in an instant. It was a bright and sunny day. My alarm clock indicated it was 7:00 a.m.; which was wrong. For the first time ever, day light savings occurred two weeks before it was customary to. Another of mans' mad mechanisizations, marking moments and movements, which mixing me up. My body felt fully rested, so I arose from my bed, and left my chambers to visit the kitchen.
Then....um....a....something...a...uh...a man entered my kitchen, wearing a thickly striped sweater and a toque with a big pom-pom on it. "Why do women menstrate?" he asked.
"To ensure the genetic information written onto the seed is up to date. The seed it expels is outdated."

Okay, that didn't work as well as I had hoped. Perhaps trying a fictious story is not the way to go....perhaps dialog...

Priest: Johnny! Get out of that washroom this instant! Your parents have called me special from the church because they're worried about you fiddlin with your dangly-thing. You'll go blind, you know!
Johnny: Will Not!
Priest: O yes Johnny. And much worse things too. You could go crazy with guilt, because you know it's a sin, and you're going to burn in hell for it. Do you want that Johnny? To burn in hell!
Johnny: No...my body just wants to make sure that my sperm has the latest updates to my dna. Out with the old, in with the new!

...no...the dialog thing isn't working either... errrrrg. Mebbe epic-style...

For six months we saw neither land nor gull, and just as despair was setting in, the first mate, from the crows nest, spotted a dot in the distance. He waited a moment, to ensure it wasn't a trick of the mind, and rubbed his eyes hard. When, at last, he saw the lush green of the bushes there, he shouted out as loud as he could, "Land ho!"
The crew perked up. The captain came running out of his cabin.
"Are you sure!"
"Positive sir," the first mate shouted, as he pointed off the starboard.
They squinted to see what he could see through his telescope. A thunderous shot of celebration resounded off the water.
"Hard right to starboard, Wally! We're here at last!"
The seamens spirits soared as they neared the island. Finally! The fountain of youth and immortality had been found!
Still a league away, some of the crew were overcome with anticipation, and dove into the waters to swim the rest of the way. The ship quickly overtook them, and left them behind in their folly. Half a league away, they came into high ground and had to steer nimbly to avoid bottoming out. Some who became impatient, climbed off the ship and tried to wade and swim the rest of the way. The water became deep again, and filled with sharp reeds and corral. Those who were in the water were tangled and gashed against the corral by the current.
Seeing the danger, the captain ordered they weigh anchor.
"I know every seaman wants to be the first to the fountain," said the captain to the remainder of his crew, "But we'll never make it if we don't use our heads. Secure the ship and lower the lifeboats. We'll paddle our way in."
Just as the boats hit the water, a dark, black cloud rolled in from nowhere. They hadn't rowed far, when thunder, lighting and rain assailed them. The waves rose to dizzying swells, demanding everyones resources to keep them afloat. What was a victory only a short while ago seemed suddenly an impossibility.
Out of eight lifeboats, only two made it within a hundred paces of shore. Then those two capsized as well. The men struggled against the sea, but it tossed them about like tadpoles in a typhoon.
The captain came across a rock which he was able to cling to. Holding tight, he scanned around for his crew. "Johnny!" he called. "Where are you Johnny?! Wally! Where's Wally!"
Alas he was all alone. Immortality at his fingertips, yet no way to reach the island. What folly it was, he reflected. His whole life long dream of finding the fountain...what complete, utter nonsense. The inanity of it hit him, and he laughed aloud. The thoughts of an old, ignorant salt like himself, having the audacity to pit himself where the higher beings are, it was laughable. Each swell of a wave gave him breath at its' lowest point, and tried to wrench him off the rock and drown him as it rose. So there he was, as the clouds could attest, a small man, broken and dying, clinging to what he had left, humbled deeper with each passing wave. At last, he let go.
Twenty leagues away, came a mighty clipper, geared with the latest navigational equipment, with a crew eager to find the fountain, yet worn by the sea.

Mebbe not epic either...hmmm...but I think the point is in there somewhere... Oh! Great one!