… “It’s always something,” our man screamed. In absolute obvious agony he grabbed his lap-top and held it high, begged for the explosion of computer diodes on his floor boards, but instead, thought about all those years of extensive thought that he had complied in his computer and gently laid his lap-top back down.
Instead, he peeled his clenched fists apart to attack the last remaining tuffs of hair on his over-intellectualized skull. After just a moment, just a moment, the last tuffs of hair surrounding his temples were now in his hand. He looked down, saw the hair, and screamed, “So now, I’ll work without hair!”
With his studies, it was just that ---always ---something ---stopping ---him! Sometimes it took him weeks to recover after these outbursts. He’d stare up at the ceiling and connect the cracks ---for days …hell, for weeks!-Years! But, his situation was quite unique. He was studying Ideas without Contradictions. It was the perfect field of intellectualism for our man. His fear of success made all his decisions, and all because of that one day when a book was placed in his hands?!
So …let’s move this story back, back to when our man was at the tender age of three, but with a string-line pulled tight, directly to the moment when the idea of ridiculous ambitions came to fruition, when his parents placed a book in his hands: A math book!
With furrowed brows the placement of the book came into his boyish hands, and, well, probably because of the many attachments that came with it, all their ideas plus many others, but solely based on one idea in particular, which was based on another larger idea, and then on another, but this time, monumental idea ---an idea to achieve the all elusive …Glory! And of course, this would be attempted even if one’s health were jeopardized. To find something that wasn’t kicking one’s own ass, something without contractions would be sought ---at all costs!
They waited like cats over weakening prey, and when the time was just ripe, they pounced. They forced their ambitions on their little boy, when his so-called fighting weight was at a slightly emaciated ---thirty pounds. They, mercilessly of course, handed our man, sixty years earlier, a math book, and thus began his rapid descent to absolute failure, sadness ridiculousness, and or, to dedicate his life to, Ideas without Contradictions.
With the simple passing of a book, this math book, from his parents to him, it was all over before it began. The math-chant was now the language spoken at the home with ridiculous ideas. It echoed throughout his childhood home for almost two decades, from boy to man. The math-chant went exactly like this ---1 plus 1 equals 2, and then, add a %, or a +, and maybe this =, and < >, and greater or lesser signs with stuff squared inside, and re-squared.
This chant, the math-chant, continued throughout breakfast lunch and dinner ---without a break. They were relentless. But one plus one does equal two, always, where we are, they would say, and he’d have to agree, every time! He was going mad!!-And at the tender age of five. Quickly he developed an interior monologue that’d step outside every once in a while and people stopped and pointed. Parent and teacher meetings were taken to medieval levels. It was difficult, but he made it, at least as far as his high school graduation ---sane!
At his high school graduation, being the valectorian, he gave the speech at the end of the ceremony, exactly about his field of expertise ---Ideas without contradictions. The Speech, known as the Speech with Many Problems:
Are you people frigging kidding me? Huh? If I am the future then who the frig are you? Nothing, huh? The future is an illusion, if we look ahead we’re actually occupied with thoughts now, and thus we live in the present, but quickly that becomes the past ---Right?????
The End
