ambivert-dexterous

There was a wooden sign nailed to a telephone pole, it was painted in bright colors, and it completely destroyed, obliterated and annihilated any realization other than that this was a sign that only came through town in the form of a massive take-over of the powers that be by other, more ferocious people called the opposing party, and it wreaked havoc on raw sense and order and justice.

“Hail, and lightning-fire,” spoke no one, this time, as invisible guidelines, laws and rules created by people, which divined our daily destinies, reasoned out what our definitions of what we were was supposed to be, so we could all relate rationally.

The rest of the completely blind universe simply replied with a response, kind of like that penny you thinned out real nice at the county fair, only this response hit with the force of a 100-ft drop, or perhaps an accidental fall to the pavement.

Real scary shit, this day and age. Excuse me for even referencing it. Nature’s response to our morning coffee order from another human being or possibly robot/machine?

“I’ll make more beans,” says Mother Nature, “Also, deadly bees and hurricanes,” because Mother Nature. I didn’t order coffee out of the ground, nobody did. We snatched the beans from the plant, cut the heck out of those little shiny beans into tiny, itty-bitty fragments, or probably we banged some rocks together or something, and we made coffee ourselves.

Nobody eats nature’s offerings, as they are, aside from maybe apples and the possible jar of honey. We, as people, deal with things that are man-made, like chocolate or gizmos, not nature-made, because honestly an apple is a tree’s sex organs, honey is insect vomit and that is all truly messed up.

Instead we grind up some cocoa beans and then add sugar and heat to make what is known as chocolate because chocolate is way better than raw plant seeds and it’s a lot healthier and easier to explain to another person. How water collects in the atmosphere and rains on us, periodically, is not as readily obvious.

Applying different ingredients to make a selectable meal looks pretty human in the grand scheme of things. So, again, is talking or wearing sweaters. Lots of members of the other parts of the living world, like corn while it is still growing on the stalk, or fish, or perhaps some undiscovered type of cheese, or something real smart like a 3rd grade science teacher, share traits in common with one another due to an overlap in specialization.

I like to imagine that Mother Nature has some weird parallel dimension where she is running through various possible time lines, remnants of our former selves which continue on, fighting distant machines of memory and wonder. One is George, no last name, because in that timeline, last names have become something completely different.

George is uniquely comprised as a singular entity of multifaceted parts. He has red hair.

The audience claps for him. Why? Because it’s on with the show. Some got happy, some got sad, let’s move on.