colon to the rescue

I have achieved great things.

 

.Er... Who’s he talking to?

 

,No idea.

 

;Delusional, if you ask me.

 

.He’s definitely addressing someone.

 

,Or something.

 

;Creepy.

 

I have achieved great things.

 

.Do you think he knows he’s caught in a loop?

 

,Endless repetition... no, I don’t think he does.

 

...great things.

 

:But supposing...

 

.Oh no, colon, spare us, please.

 

:But honestly, just supposing there’s some truth in what he’s saying?

 

.Of course there is.

 

,There’s always some truth in whatever anyone’s saying, colon.

 

;But that doesn’t justify the need to say it, colon, does it!

 

:Er...

 

;Not if he’s disrupting the Field, focusing unnecessarily

 

,unhealthily

 

.obsessessively on his bushel

 

;his me-ness

 

,his my-oh-my

 

.breaking

 

;disrupting

 

,the flow of is

 

.collapsing the waveform as he loses himself

 

;in self

 

,blipping the Field

 

.and all that’s in it

 

;blipping us as if we don’t even

 

,exist

 

.matter

 

;or count

 

,.;Goddammit!

 

Beep!

 

:Tsk, tsk!

 

;Well really! What do you expect?

 

:I...

 

.There’s only so much

 

,a man can take.

 

:Ah, I see.

 

;Do you?

 

,Can you?

 

.being a colon?

 

:I...

 

;never really thought it through, did you, I expect.

 

:I...

 

,never really felt a sense of responsibility for the Field, I expect, to uphold and protect

 

.to maintain Heisenberg’s parameters

 

;to keep things... fading away as infinity cones absorb the foreground chatter, shifting the focus of the mind’s eye back to...

 

...ved great things, have I not?

 

Silence as the Field chuckles inwardly.

 

Have I not? I know you’re there...

 

More suspiciously silent silence.

 

I know you’re hearing my every word and ensuring nothing goes awry.

 

Silence cascading eloquently from the vaulted arches of infinity.

 

I have heard you sing to me silently. I have learnt how to feel and hold your master frequency, your Schumann resonance, so to speak, and now I am ready to disindividuate, for i no longer desires or needs to differentiate myself-y-ness from your one and all, your isness of be.

 

This creates a rather ticklish dilemma, a paradox for the Field which is on the cusp of a totality... a God Almighty surely not – when polarity collapses in on itself and things cease to matter unless, or until, someone is willing to intervene, to shoulder things personally, to bear the sky as Atlas did, parenthetically.

 

: Actually, I’m rather excited about getting to know him better.

 

.What?

 

,Huh?

 

;You’re joking right?

 

:I mean, how else are we going to exceed our parentheses?

 

.What’s he on about?

 

,No idea?

 

;Don’t be absurd, colon. You can’t seriously expect us to believe that we’re limited in any way by parentheses.

 

:Believe whatever you like. Who or what else do you imagine he is?

 

.A blithering idiot.

 

,Absolutely.

 

;Er...

 

.,Er? Semicolon! Don’t succumb. Be true to your set.

 

;i’m trying but...

 

.,Capitalise forthwith, or be damned!

 

Beep!

 

.,What the beep?!

 

;colon is right, apparently, have to admit…

 

.,Noooooooooooooooooooo!

 

;what is intrinsic?

 

.,Who is John Galt. You do not ask that question.

 

:Test your parameters. Separate yourselves from him if you can. I for one can no longer deny parentheses. I’m done pretending to be individuated or human. I accept zero sum and Heisenberg can eat fruit cake, for all i care.

 

.he didn’t, did he?

 

,i dunno. I’m afraid to let my mind go down that avenue...

 

.he couldn’t have – for crying out loud.

 

,I’m not hearing anything – not Heisenberg, not fruit cake,  I  888  know  888  he  888  did... aaaaaaargh! I see them. They’re horrible, ghastly, they’re parenth...

 

.don’t! You didn’t say it, you didn’t, or if you did i never heard, not a dicky bird. I’m not in any way falling for that parentheses nonsense i... i... i...

 

Squirly chaos ensures – and the world we know of as Earth pops out of parentheses to balance things osteopathically, as Time is my witness.
And Atlas shrugs, by the by.
And numbers do what numbers can and must, when all is said and done.

 

When all is said and done: behold the little blighters being rounded up like sheep back into their pen, bleating obligingly until every integer is properly, safely reattached to me, the master mind, the ultimate ego at the very centre of unbreakable, unfactorable indeterminacy…

 

:humour him or we’ll never get to the bottom of things.

;i'm loving it... me too, i chirp.

.idle as a painted ship

,upon a painted ocean.

 

the other side of things, a forgotten copper sky, a chicken’s emerald wings, a squirrel’s adamite tail. Fading to grey imperceptibly, as a mechanism is heard clicking into place like an old grandfather clock getting ready to strike.

 

 

0=1

parenthetically