Or, a story a day. The domain name is being squatted by the by. I love squatters because they make the search for useful domains so much more interesting. I was searching on a bunch yesterday, found some cutsie doozies.
So a new practice (as if I didn’t already have enough) (is that resentment?) (maybe) (but this creative thing is what you live for) (then let’s focus just on that) (well, the organization is needful, then there’s the nuts and bolts of execution, and of course the super hero training) ( I know, I know, so get on with it) ahem. So a new practice that I am proposing is the writing of a story a day or seven stories a week. I don’t have to write one every single day, but I do have to have seven by the end of every week, which might mean a crazy writing session at the end or beginning of every week. Now I’ve got all of 10 minutes to write one before Tai Chi, so here’s we go.
A fish is staring up at the surface of the lake in which he lives, looking at the stars. They fade as the surface of the water becomes a great sheet of light, not unlike the sky of the land dwellers. He goes about his business, eating minnows and whatnot, making trinkets and baubles for the tourists – like cleverly crafted little snail shell pendants and glass rings made out of the necks of discarded pop bottles which he slices with an industrial rock saw. How he does this without the use of hands is easy to explain; the principle of action at a distance is much more common underwater and is frequently used by the creatures who dwell there for all manner of things that would otherwise require hands. That’s why you if you ever dive under the water and see fish staring at you, it’s because they are trying to make you go away and eventually you always do, so there you have it. The science behind all this is complicated, involving gills and water pressure and as this is a very short story, there just isn’t time for extensive geeky exposition.
Eventually, the sheet of rippling light is dominated by a great singular blob, not unlike a wavering glass pop bottle ring. Now as this happens almost everyday the fish is not surprised, but for all it’s familiarity it’s still a pretty awesome spectacle. He stares without a thought, neither wishing it away or wanting it to be bigger. Great spokes of light flicker down from the blob. “This is obviously the sun”, the fish thinks, perhaps as a little thought bubble over his head. “The sun is good. I am a fish. Being a fish is good too. Therefor am I not like the sun?” This question is not some silly logical flim flam, but is actually very profound and demonstrates the spiritual sophistication of fish generally. If you don’t agree, it’s likely because you’re human and humans are generally not very good underwater, where all the really interesting stuff happens.
Morec of the story? Swim more often especially underwater. Don’t assume anything unless you’ve had a lot of prior experience and even then be careful because you are likely to be very surprised at a very inconvenient moment.
It’s now 8:15, so that took me 25 minutes to write. It has an ending, tho it’s a little ephemeral. No question Douglas Adam influenced, after listening to his UC Santa Barabara lecture posted by Nick Dongvillo on evil FB.