The tawny owl was wearing big glasses. He was looking down on me from heights I will never reach. Nothing new there. I know he sees what I don’t in the coolest far out places where I will never get to be. Like Galaxy NGC3314a. Or NGC3314b. But, I did not know why, where, how, or by whom such big glasses were made. Was it in this universe or another? And I still don’t.
“There is a difference,” he intoned, “going back at least to the Jurassic Period, between thought and calculation. That’s on land. In the sea, they’re way ahead. No straight lines, no boxes there. It starts out with the hunt. There is another difference that appeared later between language and arithmetic. Among humans, there have never been very many thinkers, and now with so many artificial aids designed for the feeble-minded majority, proportionately fewer than ever. No other animals so unfit for hunting have been able to survive through such devious means. Not even confidence is required. That explains why calculator sales are at an all time high and there is so much writing on your toilet stall walls. Humans are awash in a sea of numbers derived from non-thinkers. Random is rarely only random. Although that’s coming to a climax. It keeps me flying high at night laughing my ass off.”
I thought, whoa, fucking whoa. Slow down, why don’t you? It’s fine to laugh at the pratfalls of ordinary everyday slapstick but this sounds like you’re turning a nasty corner in a drizzle and careening awfully close to home awfully fast.
I said, “Hold on.”
He said, “No, you hold on. I’m on.”
“I’m trying my best to catch up. I’m mulling the Jurassic Period.”
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
I thought, how does he know about the gaseous structures of toilet stalls? Don’t tell me he can see through walls, too?
When you grow up with one leg shorter than the other, and develop a crooked grin as partial compensation, it can only explain so much before the expiration date passes. That is more than a necessary although not a sufficient cause to ride high. I try to piss along with the wind on a regular basis according to what I am able to see and not miss but there are days when the wind turns all directional on me and begins to howl.
I said, “But, still.”
According to slow breaking news on the infernal Internet, which means like a serious pain in the ass it must be seriously construed to be true somewhere at some time, or will be, dolphins have been declared non-human citizens of India. I think they rank just below two legged Brahmins, which if you ask me very clearly overemphasizes to the level of sit-commie humor a mere two legs that are unable to run or think fast, far, or catch fish.
I thought, OMG. And sincerely, WTF.
I believe with as much certainty as a middling cretin is allowed that even I can hear the higher level dolphins laughing their fucking asses off as counterweights to the priests, pastors, imams, ayatollahs, reverends, and rebbes who are scratching at crazy beards and outbreaks of hemorrhoidal heartaches that must itch like hell in outrage, while gobbling ritualistic curds, and plotting sinister plotzes.