Some things just don’t make sense. Why would they make the European electrical plug exactly nose-width if they didn’t want you to stick it up your nose? In the vast cosmos of language and logic, there is shared perspective, and there are disjointed frames of mind that keep us from colliding with our “impossible”. Here on the Arabian Peninsula, for example, one can even haggle with reality.
“I’m 45 minutes away,” the man stated. Fact. Distance. Time.
The international crowd strives for tolerance, the pinnacle of mutual understanding, yet to tolerate is merely to accept — not the validity but the existence of something different. Anything short of plotting and pursuing a savage vendetta is tolerance. I think we can aim higher. We tolerate first, and then we use this impossible flexibility to our advantage.
“Could you make it 30 minutes?”
He was there in 15.
A Pakistani spokesman on the BBC defended his military’s efforts, saying, “we have lost the most soldiers in the war on terror.” Interesting reasoning. If we’ve failed the most, we must be trying the hardest.
But as silly as it sounds on television, the same could have been said about the Iranian national soccer team, who lost 3-0 to Brazil yesterday in the heat of the Abu Dhabi night. With nothing but heart and a last second near miss, Iran came up short against a Brazilian squad playing only two of their World Cup season superstars. But there’s nothing too clear about soccer, not even the name. Not everything is as simple as, say, weightlifting, the world’s simplest sport — instructions are right in the title. Like a BLT, you hear that name, and you know exactly what to do.
But some instructions are troublesome. Recently, I was warned again not to reuse a water bottle. Somehow, it’s a bad idea to put water back in where it came from because it poisons the insides. What, do we wash the chemicals off the plastic if we put too much water in it? But… that’s all we ever do with a bottle. It’s like telling someone, Don’t eat off this plate twice, it’s covered in rat poison. Maybe I shouldn’t eat off it the first time .
In this our state of peninsulation, the islands take on their own logic. Sensical blurs with the non-, and your brain searches (or should) for a reset switch to remove the “pre-” from all new conceptions. Instead of confusion, we now strike possibility — instead of contradicting, we are open to the magic of the truly bizarre. Just look, and you’ll see ethereal merry-go-rounds turning and turning, silent in their orange glow.
Wait, those are just cranes.