Sunday, February 27, 2005

The Rapture

I never can tell when my inner mind will decide to cast its spell over the workings of the day-to-day mind. I'll just be merrily going about my business when all of us a sudden BAM! To you, the observer, perhaps my eyes glaze over, my brow furrows or I mishear that vital word that has linked your sentence together, forcing you the insufferable angst of having to repeat yourself.

But do not think upon me too harshly oh friend and companion, as I am sure this tide, like all tides, will turn and when he sees you begin your inward slide, your synaptic travels, Sherriff would do naught but tickle and smile. A gentle coax back being far more attractive than Furrowed Brow versus Furrowed Brow.

Besides! Who knows what road I am travelling! An angry look oft masks a discovery, a conundrum, or most wonderful of all; a Crossroad...and friends I find nothing so deeply enjoying, so intensely mystifying, so full of delight and the sensual tickle of the unknown as a Crossroad. Granted, this is where The Fear is most acute, but a mystery of Crossroads I have recently discovered my fellow scholars (Oh! the joy of sharing scientific knowledge!) is that all roads are connected and should you fear The Absolute of choosing your path you will most likely find your wary self right back at the very Crossroad you are standing at now. Sweet irony! Your fear, the warmth and familiarity of which you bore with yourself FOR SAFETY as you boldly stepped forward has in turn denied you the chance to discover! Such are humour and science bonded in an intrinsic dance.

Hence, and do understand the remorse this scholar feels for lecturing with such pique, I must, I MUST implore you, dear reader, embrace the rapture that this fear masks! Fear is the mind killer! If Choice brings Fear it must follow that Decision brings naught but Rapture. Regret being the tonic of the lonely and destitute (this scientist's poor attempt at Wilde-esque Vernacular. Shame!)

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In a gutter in Florence last year I happened upon a chap who had recently returned from a years sojourn in Paris working as an engineer for the V____ Corporation. His tailored cuffs bespoke a man far more comfortable with the Grand Ballroom at the Pallazio di Medina than lying awash with tears and whiskey at my feet on the cobbles. Spying not another soul nearby it was clear what I must do. Promptly calling my boy to arrange for us a carriage I took it upon myself to learn the nature of this man's predicament. Of course, certain steps were to be taken before I would apply my learned brain to interrogating this fellow, putting him in a hot bath with the strongest of oils being top of the list!

Hours later once the stranger had awoke and I had warmed myself with half a carafe of Napoleon, we found the chance to converse. He introduced himself as Mssr. Fewl, a most uncommon name, however being known as Dr. Sherriff was not without it's bizzare nature so it was comforting to us both to have such jocular titles.

We had much in common having spent a similar amount of time in Hanoi in the French colonies many years ago. By blind happen stance we had not met before, for it seemed we both knew all manner of similar colleagues, and I was shocked (and thrilled!) to find out that Fewl had actually been instrumental in the incident involving Mademoiselle Cartier, the two Court Musicians and the Exploding Frog. Oh my! Needless to say we quickly formed a bond of friendship, and this dear reader is how it came to pass that Fewl confided in me his own theories regarding the Crossroads he had travelled...


End of Part One

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