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Sunday, January 22, 2012

79. Discourse

It was shaping up to be a pleasant evening. C.W. dropped by in one of the few shapes that he repeats, the conjoined twins, Lucky and Lefty. The long-time reader may remember them as quite a contentious pair. Here is the ending of the description of the first time we met: “With that, they walked away. I watched and they did quite well, except that every hundred feet or so they would stop and turn in circles for a minute or so, first in one direction, and then the other.”

It is true, they couldn’t even agree on how to walk properly. Imagine then, my surprise when they appeared as a happy, contented, pair of siblings seemingly settled into perfect harmony.

“I believe you know my brother Lefty,” Lucky said.

“I do.”

“And I am sure that you remember my brother Lucky,” Lefty said.

“Indeed. But what is up?”

“We beg your pardon?” Lucky said.

“We most certainly do,” Lefty said.

“Uh, the last time we visited, you fellers couldn’t have agreed on what day of the week it was.”

“We have reformed.”

“Yes, we saw the light.”

“Saw the light?” I said.

“Yes,” Lucky said. “We have become extremely concerned about the level of discourse in your country.”

“Well isn’t that something?” I said.

“Yes, when the ‘loyal opposition’ calls the President of your country a traitor and claims he hates America, it gives us pause.” Lefty said.

“Well,” I said, “This is not the first time in our history that it has happened. Senator Joe McCarthy once called General George Marshall, who led us through World War Two, a traitor.”

“Exactly,” Lucky said.

“It’s so 1950s,” Lefty said.

“I see.”

“So we are concentrating on positive dialogue,” Lucky said.

“It takes one to know one,” Lefty said.

“The Devil’s boots never squeak,” Lucky said.

There was silence.

“It is possible that my brother has not quite reached the end of the Eightfold Path,” Lefty said.

“My brother …” Lucky began.

“That’s enough. I get the point,” I interrupted. “Let’s not return to our old habits.”

“Certainly not,” Lucky said, but I could tell his feelings were hurt, so I asked him a question directly.

”So, do you mean that you directing us to a more gentle collective consciousness?” I said. “Say for example, ‘If you have done this to the least of these my brothers …”

“Oh,” said Lucky. “That is so FDR, so 1930s.”

“We represent a more utilitarian consciousness,” Lefty said.

“I am confused,” I said.

“We want to present your species with a cosmic truth,” Lucky said.

“But one that is, at the same time, of lasting practical utility,” Lefty said.

“Such as,” I said. “Go boldly forth …”

“Oh please,” Lucky said. “That is so 1960s. We have a much more meaningful and useful utility paradigm for you.”

“I am all ears,” I said.

“You do have your notepad and pencil ready?” Lefty said.

”I do.”

“Are you ready?” Lucky said.

“Lay it on me.”

May the Farce be with you.
- Lefty and Lucky
Each took a deep breath. Then they joined hands, looked at one another, and smiled.

“Lefty loosey,” Lucky said.

”Righty tighty,” Lefty said.

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