The Dinghy

The Dinghy

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Friday, September 10, 2004
 
Often, upon meandering the wordish wanderings of the intellectualities of Ultimate Progenitors other than our own, our ears stumble upon waxings of a "theoretical" or "philosophical" nature.

And no! We do not run from the room when said lumpy, bumpy, and aesthetically pleasing thought-formations make their approach – as the human body yearns (so naturally) to do. No. Instead we funnel said musings through several matrixes of our own extremely illiterate making. Underdeveloped though our occipital lobes may be, we attempt to comprehend the complexities of others' creation with great vim and with great vigor and with great monotony and with great, unholy vengeance.

Long have we discussed paradigms, matrixes, Monotony, Sufficiency, Tedium, our Ultimate Progenitor, the true nature of paper, the mating habits of scotch tape, and the metaphorical linguistic forebears of the "noun-verb" (a grammatical construct still in progress--don't push, I'm working on it---ed. note).

And, in our discussions of these matters, so trivial, we have built a rapport, you and I.

So it is, with bleeding brain and mucus-clogged nostrils that I reveal to you the unvarnished answers to the issues we have long, together, considered. Yes. Often, we have eschewed simple solutions; instead hewing to the bitter, the angry, the spittle-spattered, and the intemperate. (We have done this out of pure pleasure, I assure you.)

But not today. Cover your eyes, seekers of Sufficiency, if you wish still to uncover the truth of that most important of questions on your own dime:

And, in fact, cover them if you wish not to discover said question itself:

To Wit:

Question: What is life and how we live it?

Answer: Life and how we live it.

The sentence supra was revealed to me in the epiphanous flicker of a gut-encrusted lightbulb long ago, as I sat locked in my underground bunker eating a caesar salad from our Microregion's most inexpensive Au Bon Pain.

And, despite its seeming simplicity, each day STILL do I muse upon its meaning.

Life and how we live it.

Go forth and make mustard.

That is all.

Thank you for your time.

Goodbye forever.

That is all. Really.

No more, this time.

No mas.


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