Crazy is its own reality.
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Drunk with the storm
The trees
Full of green
Bend and sway in the wind
As if choreographed by Twyla Tharp
Soft then sharp
The leaves make jazz hands
Connected then separate then connected
Partners then soloists then partners again
Birds take shelter
Puffed out balls of feathers
In the broken flower pots
That sit in the corner of the back porch
The birdfeeder is empty
Rain water rattles through the gutters
Unheard by the sullen birds
A voice says, "We need the rain"
We always need the rain
It gives the trees a chance to dance
A time machine appears outside the blacksmith's shop in 1880 Portsmouth. The Blacksmith stops his work, resting his hammer on the anvil and watches as three people exit the time machine; a Doctor, a Lawyer, and an Indian Chief.
Ironically, "Chip and Dale" were two of my childhood favorite cartoon characters.
Classic 50s "Chip and Dale;" not the lame "Rescue Rangers" reboot.
Now all I can do is wonder how such loathsome, thieving rodents could ever have been made to look cute. Damn you, Walt Disney!
If I was a historian, I think I'd be asking myself, "Am I just wasting my time?"
It was said, by someone much smarter than me, that "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." You would think that would make history and historians pretty important and yet, historians appear to be the Cassandra of academics.
There are movies that I can watch - will watch - any time I happen upon them, regardless of where it is in the narrative. These aren't "I missed the beginning" movies. These are repeated experience "I love this movie" movies. "The Big Lebowski" is one of those movies.
Is reality so complex, so multifaceted, such a large data sample that it's impossible to tell it from even a poorly constructed fiction?
Or are people just stupid?
I suppose it could be both.