well...
bill- is that actually you? it's me, henry. do you have a minute? I do. indeed. yesiree bob. I have multiple minutes. good. listen. I was thinking about what you told me you told sarah's husband last night about the woman in his office who does puppet theater down in the root cellar. henry, let it go. please. I told her a lot of things. I told you a lot also. maybe too much. impossible. why did we have no information, prithee, why did we have so many impertinent questions, why did we "go inside" when there was no "inside" to be spoken of, answer that, why did we stay there, consider, why did we gaze into other people’s electronic devices, there were so many, dear henry, there's a hole in the bucket, dear henry, calvin is making things a lot more difficult than they have to be, you realize?
well, fix it, then, liza, so many different translations, no one could read the original outside of a few inaccessible experts, will we ever lack information, "inside" was considered desirable, they were engaging people, indeed, we enjoyed their "ideals", entertaining admittedly, we enjoyed the manner in which they communicated their "images", it was good to just look at them, good to just go outside and reconstitute, they were fixed up good and proper, don't you agree, bill? I do. indeed. yersiree bob. I was proud to be a part of that particular fundraising drive. would you call it short term? no, long term. what about medium term? sorry, henry, medium term wouldn't be very accurate. inside wouldn't be deep enough. rich with possibilities, you're implying? filled with so many bright and shining ideals, friends forever, as it were, chock full of outrageous and probably "unreal" suggestions? the time will soon come when we are all friends simultaneously, yes, friends with the same specific semi-ideas and messengers, instant, otherwise, anything, we will share food with strangers and animals, like all the classic success stories broadcast on this poor public station, redeeming in every outdated sense of the term, promptly notified when we want to make or suggest an alignment, come to some sort of agreement, if not today then tomorrow, tomorrow still holds considerable promise, we will go there, we will live there, we will have the latest ideas, technology, it was good to just talk with them, in a simple, relatively straightforward manner, it was good to sometimes merely just daydream about them, see, everything is included, please notice, all part of one large, sustainable system, eco or techno or psycho or crypto or otherwise, we enjoy being part of it, yes, we enjoy traveling over it, point a, point b, point c, point d, etc, making our own small contributions, making our own subtle analysis, do we not, bill? we do. indeed. we make overt analysis sometimes. we might go there, might even live there, might stage our own old-fashioned bio-region-based seminar, trying to teach them how to listen, how to sink to the bottom, suggestive of deep time, perhaps, I believe they are what might be termed the right sort of suggestions, nothing like the old fashioned religions, nothing like what used to pass for suggestions, our former lives not
successful, not the lives that we hoped for, other people, more important, other people, better instructed, good to know that they still exist in some fashion, yes, good, fun to study their value systems, I am a merchant, did you know that, a system or network of entrepreneurs, can you see that, I lie down in the road, just imagine, gaze out over artistic scenes thru the quiet & subtle & sometimes nightmarish windshield of the 21st century! we each have our own time table. seems like pretty strange furniture, henry. well, bill, I agree with you, the other people misunderstand it, the other people are better instructed.
for example, when I go over to the senator’s house, when I look over his list of accomplishments, nobody understands better than calvin the terrifying demands that were made of him during those early years, nobody has a better perspective on these sorts of interpersonal echo derivatives. we are merchants-in-training, bill, marathoners-in-training, tourists/ animals/ minerals/ internet browsers-in-training, we like to look at brochures, we like to talk to our neighbors, maybe the day will come, maybe it will be considered successful, new understandings emerge, they are the right ones, appropriate, to the present-day era, is that still you talking, henry? it is, bill, for heaven's sake, how or who could it be other than I? it will soon emerge, be
successful, finally we will communicate properly, we will emerge out from or into or onto or over or under or possibly even braided alongside
the landscape, we will inaugurate hobbies, yes, and then people will finally understand that we too enjoy fun activity, they look at someone without hobbies as a person not entirely trustworthy, they ask a series of questions, a slightly slanted or prejudicial combination of intimate linguistic probings. what about the body language, then, henry? did you happen to notice the body language? I did, bill, indeed, I noticed it right off of the bat. what about you? I did also. seems to be the sort or type or style or flavor of information that makes the most sense to them, the information that for private reasons they are able to put to practical use, maybe they'll finally have a closer look at our resumes, look over the photographs and feel happy, we feel happy simply communicating, don't we, bill, happiness doesn’t require anything more nowadays!
as you can see, bill and henry need serious and immediate help! they aren't using social media properly! the outlets available to them are inadequate, somehow. lol. that's what they're implying, at least, on their late night radio program, broadcast direct from their rv camper situated somewhere deep in the wilderness. I stopped listening long ago. hold on there, pardner, it's not quite your turn to comment. simmer down. as I was saying, bill and henry could use a little environmental assistance. they aren't maximizing their networks in the way we encouraged them to. they're free agents, of course, at least in a fashion-based sense. more concretely, they depend on us to make their little talk show worthwhile- at least it gives them something to point to when the station director comes poking his nose around. he lurks down in his corner office, poring over the magazine field and stream. he used to be a nature guide on the sangamon river, hand held tersely to brow, ear pressed down near the current, scooping up handfuls of water when he felt in need of a beverage, he used to question very seriously these direct appeals for help and I can't say that I blame him, even if the river experience skewed his business credentials a bit. if you're so lost you're turning to puppet theater in your need for even more profound mystery...
well...
golly...
do you have a minute?
I do. I have any number of minutes.
