William Mims wrote the most amazing response:
..err, where was I? oh right… on a journey –; exploring the infinite metaphors of this MARVELous universe. Don’t Stop… Believin… Hold on to that feelin…Know where to start… at the end… just like Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle KGStJ, DL — who may very well have used a variant of the Seven Plot Point structure; if only indirectly. As pointed out by a different Author, through the Arthur; opening a restaurant at one end of the universe, is just showing the beginning of the universe as it is unfolding backwards… do try one of the sandwiches when you get there.
A four year old that can not roll and play, lacks precisely the level of capacity required to realize they can’t play a role — most people don’t comprehend until forty, what they were to young to admit at two –; namely that everyone is underdeveloped for the task of living on their own. Between those ages is a vorticurveular fractalimited omniline of overconfident disappointments and underrealized potential.
grab an oar, and start rowing if you you have a direction… oar just float on down the stream — but along the way, remember their is no way out of this bathtub for all us spiders, so don’t beat on others with your ORs and show off all your BUTs.
but… some coma patients wake having experienced an infinite lifetimes, and wake up as a host of ages — and then others apparently can see the infinity of people they touch. A dream is a roleplaying game of one… on the shores of us, by an infinite sea of we. The Interconnectivity of spiralling vortex probability masses we can’t sense physically, helps turn the lights on.
I’ll just say, in closing:
Rational Anthem of A Brave New World
Times have changed, And we’ve often rewound the clock, Since the Puritans got a shock, When they landed on Plymouth Rock. If today, Any shock they should try to stem, ‘Stead of landing on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock would land on them.
In olden days a glimpse of stocking Was looked on as something shocking, But now, God knows, Anything Goes.
Good authors too who once knew better words, Now only use four letter words Writing prose, Anything Goes.
_The world has gone mad today And good’s bad today, And black’s white today, And day’s night today, When most guys today That women prize today Are just silly gigolos And though I’m not a great romancer I know that I’m bound to answer When you propose, Anything goes_
When grandmama whose age is eighty In night clubs is getting matey with gigolo’s, Anything Goes.
When mothers pack and leave poor father Because they decide they’d rather be tennis pros, Anything Goes.
If driving fast cars you like, If low bars you like, If old hymns you like, If bare limbs you like, If Mae West you like Or me undressed you like, Why, nobody will oppose! When every night, The set that’s smart Is intruding in nudist parties in studios, Anything Goes.
The world has gone mad today And good’s bad today, And black’s white today, And day’s night today, When most guys today That women prize today Are just silly gigolos And though I’m not a great romancer I know that I’m bound to answer When you propose, Anything goes.
If saying your prayers you like, If green pears you like If old chairs you like, If back stairs you like, If love affairs you like With young bears you like, Why nobody will oppose.
And though I’m not a great romancer I know that I’m bound to answer When you propose, Anything goes… Anything goes.