Dipole, in A
My understanding was increasing as far as I could tell, but I still wanted to have a foot race against the good doctor… to escape. He looked healthy and fast though, not the usual type of person I would spring against, especially not in these wooden clogs that I had been fitted with (for electrical insulation purposes). I’m no electronics expert. The equipment sound makes me want to run, as I’m sure you understand. It puts me on edge when I know the noise is to be used on me and not some inanimate pile of fertilizer, as was the usual for me. In a different sort of world, the fertilizer might feel the same apprehension as I feel.
Dr. Taylor presented his information on multiple levels simultaneously, much more efficient than my short-circuited presentation about my theory of what “freestyle” actually is. Is it just the ability to improvise? No. Let me begin and end by saying that freestyle holds a number of complicated meanings; meanings that are deeply rooted in a dualistic and detailed type universe with many different things that are complex and highly intricated. I’ll save that for later too… somebody should be writing these things down. Philosophical defense is quite arduous by my own understanding, and can utilize nearly one’s entire mental energy reservoir. For that reason my philosophies lack body and when they’re presented they have the same effect on the mental palette as does my special meatball sandwich served on my own homemade rye bread on the taste palette. Nonetheless, my philosophies have to find an exit from my equipment box, but that’s neither here nor there in this narrative. Right now I would like to use my reserved right to freestyle my explanation mode by being ambiguous and disconnected (displaying the lack of palatability)… with the use of only one freestyle example:
“I’m afraid that attempt will be stifled.” Taylor said as he looked at me in the mirror. Seeing as to the fact that no sounds were made by me alluding to my thoughts, I had to pretend he didn’t say anything. “Jerry, your expression speaks volumes; volumes that we can’t have spoken at this time, silently or otherwise. Please index them and organize them on manufactured plastic shelving. I’m sure you were innocently evaluating your own theories and such, most likely the nature of freestyle. I once sent my son to your “freestyle tire camp” over the summer. He tossed well, and invented several new procedures and rules. If I remember correctly the camp was eventually turned against you in a moment of law exchange. The new rule was that you had to act as the tire ringer and were only allowed to make happy comments. Don’t worry, your community service attempt didn’t go unnoticed, but it did contribute, in my opinion, to your ultimate brain convolution. At first only a simple, cute diagram, it soon ran out of control and then you lost your job. I’m guessing that at least. You look sullen, the way one looks when they’ve lost their income and life. “
Wow, top notch insight. I then remembered that I’ve been trying to impress Taylor with my freestyle theory for a number of years, always getting bits and pieces out when I see him at the super market or shooting hoops in the park. “Sorry.” I said with a tear in my eye and a knot in my throat. I was ashamed and felt dirty. I turned away so it wouldn’t get worse. He didn’t’ help the circumstance by lifting up my shirt and lightly stroking my abdomen. I wanted to take a shower to wash the smeared lipstick off my face. I will explain more on freestyle later. I think it might have a rightful place in this story, but it’s too early to tell, and my theory was pre-pubescent. It would do no justice at this time.
“I’m afraid there might not ever be time for that set of postulates again.” He told me. Not after today my friend, not after today. “Well, shall we? “ Taylor then motioned to the back room again, this time with a flashlight and a neon streamer. He pointed up at the ceiling ferociously and repeatedly, giving the signals as if they were memorized. I heard no noise changes and sensed nothing except the clamps holding my wrists down. I had not noticed the cold steel before, but I didn’t appreciate them doing their unyielding work. They showed no emotion, as expected. Torque punched in some numbers on his wall-mounted number control panel and giggled with delight. Then he swore and gave the cut sign to the mirror. Three knocks on the glass proceeded with the same frequency, and Torque inspected a wall graph showing child ear infections vs. motherly love.
My mind wandered off for what I believed to be the last time. I thought about my new job and my potential new ability to figure out the past day’s events. I had plenty of days left, but dwindling resources and a clogged pipe that sent them. This would unclog the pipe, increasing the resources as required. My new resources could be used to find newer better ones and so on and such. I pondered my uncle’s plan and remembered that I didn’t listen to much of it. I sure hoped he could get off his feet with his various endeavors. I think I was supposed to play a role in that, but I couldn’t be sure. He had suggested that I see Myron at the Booth, so maybe I was to go back to him after that. Then again, he mentioned that Melcko was monitoring his water usage or something of that nature, which wouldn’t be too hard to believe for me at this point. And that’s where the plans and the day’s destruction show unity, which is what leads me to believe that I shouldn’t have listened more intently. But then again when the shit hits the fan like this, you know, with losing your job, part of your face, attempted abduction, and multiple slight of hand your mind starts to play tricks on you. I have to wonder if everything is real nearly all the time, and continually check my pocket for items that may have wandered in there at some point. Once I found a Gideon’s Bible and a pack of Big League Chew in there and sat for days alone, wondering how it could be.
Dr. Taylor presented his information on multiple levels simultaneously, much more efficient than my short-circuited presentation about my theory of what “freestyle” actually is. Is it just the ability to improvise? No. Let me begin and end by saying that freestyle holds a number of complicated meanings; meanings that are deeply rooted in a dualistic and detailed type universe with many different things that are complex and highly intricated. I’ll save that for later too… somebody should be writing these things down. Philosophical defense is quite arduous by my own understanding, and can utilize nearly one’s entire mental energy reservoir. For that reason my philosophies lack body and when they’re presented they have the same effect on the mental palette as does my special meatball sandwich served on my own homemade rye bread on the taste palette. Nonetheless, my philosophies have to find an exit from my equipment box, but that’s neither here nor there in this narrative. Right now I would like to use my reserved right to freestyle my explanation mode by being ambiguous and disconnected (displaying the lack of palatability)… with the use of only one freestyle example:
“I’m afraid that attempt will be stifled.” Taylor said as he looked at me in the mirror. Seeing as to the fact that no sounds were made by me alluding to my thoughts, I had to pretend he didn’t say anything. “Jerry, your expression speaks volumes; volumes that we can’t have spoken at this time, silently or otherwise. Please index them and organize them on manufactured plastic shelving. I’m sure you were innocently evaluating your own theories and such, most likely the nature of freestyle. I once sent my son to your “freestyle tire camp” over the summer. He tossed well, and invented several new procedures and rules. If I remember correctly the camp was eventually turned against you in a moment of law exchange. The new rule was that you had to act as the tire ringer and were only allowed to make happy comments. Don’t worry, your community service attempt didn’t go unnoticed, but it did contribute, in my opinion, to your ultimate brain convolution. At first only a simple, cute diagram, it soon ran out of control and then you lost your job. I’m guessing that at least. You look sullen, the way one looks when they’ve lost their income and life. “
Wow, top notch insight. I then remembered that I’ve been trying to impress Taylor with my freestyle theory for a number of years, always getting bits and pieces out when I see him at the super market or shooting hoops in the park. “Sorry.” I said with a tear in my eye and a knot in my throat. I was ashamed and felt dirty. I turned away so it wouldn’t get worse. He didn’t’ help the circumstance by lifting up my shirt and lightly stroking my abdomen. I wanted to take a shower to wash the smeared lipstick off my face. I will explain more on freestyle later. I think it might have a rightful place in this story, but it’s too early to tell, and my theory was pre-pubescent. It would do no justice at this time.
“I’m afraid there might not ever be time for that set of postulates again.” He told me. Not after today my friend, not after today. “Well, shall we? “ Taylor then motioned to the back room again, this time with a flashlight and a neon streamer. He pointed up at the ceiling ferociously and repeatedly, giving the signals as if they were memorized. I heard no noise changes and sensed nothing except the clamps holding my wrists down. I had not noticed the cold steel before, but I didn’t appreciate them doing their unyielding work. They showed no emotion, as expected. Torque punched in some numbers on his wall-mounted number control panel and giggled with delight. Then he swore and gave the cut sign to the mirror. Three knocks on the glass proceeded with the same frequency, and Torque inspected a wall graph showing child ear infections vs. motherly love.
My mind wandered off for what I believed to be the last time. I thought about my new job and my potential new ability to figure out the past day’s events. I had plenty of days left, but dwindling resources and a clogged pipe that sent them. This would unclog the pipe, increasing the resources as required. My new resources could be used to find newer better ones and so on and such. I pondered my uncle’s plan and remembered that I didn’t listen to much of it. I sure hoped he could get off his feet with his various endeavors. I think I was supposed to play a role in that, but I couldn’t be sure. He had suggested that I see Myron at the Booth, so maybe I was to go back to him after that. Then again, he mentioned that Melcko was monitoring his water usage or something of that nature, which wouldn’t be too hard to believe for me at this point. And that’s where the plans and the day’s destruction show unity, which is what leads me to believe that I shouldn’t have listened more intently. But then again when the shit hits the fan like this, you know, with losing your job, part of your face, attempted abduction, and multiple slight of hand your mind starts to play tricks on you. I have to wonder if everything is real nearly all the time, and continually check my pocket for items that may have wandered in there at some point. Once I found a Gideon’s Bible and a pack of Big League Chew in there and sat for days alone, wondering how it could be.
posted by fiestawizard at 8:04 PM
1 Comments:
Is this the first appearance of Torque? If not, please refer me to that issue, as it may become worth some money in the future.
the final 2 sentences really brought it all home for me. in a way that made my heart squeeze a bit -- not in a painful way, but in the way it does when it recognizes its reflection in the Mirror of Shameful Self-doubt.
attempts to evoke and verbalize vague philosophical ideas, only to be stymied by various forces that are even more vague "in certain way(s)," are a common thread that link us all together in a braid that stretches from here to somewhere over there, like some other thing that, you know, it's hard to explain.
the anecdote reminded me that diagrams can be helpful (note to self: would this be a good bullet point for a powerpoint seminar that is being worked on?).
looking forward....
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