Dear Reader:
I say the same thing over and over in as many different ways as possible, in the hope that upon reading one of my Rants, you, Dear Reader, will be lovingly pushed off the cliff and learn to fly on your own.
A little older, perhaps a little grumpier and definitely a little less patient… sounds like I am becoming more little like Nis every day, less those Bidet cigarettes and the throat cancer.
I’ve said it before, anything can be seen as a metaphor for everything else and thus everything can be viewed as a metaphor for Truth. Well, that’s my assertion but I doubt that everyone agrees with me. That’s fine because agreeing with me is the opposite of what I desire. I want you to question everything, to experience life and the dream at a deep level. I want for you to own it, not just ‘cut and paste’ a piece of me into you. Anyone like Baseball?
Not me! I think it’s a rather silly endeavor for any adult to engage in, but let’s look closely at it, and I confess, pretty cynically as well.
In Baseball, the player starts at ‘home plate’ and by using a stick to hit a ball and following some arbitrarily established rules, he/she proceeds to run around, bruise elbows, knees and hips, (which injuries will inevitably show up in later life) slides into a ‘base’ in order to make his/her nice white suit all dirty and macho looking.
Thousands of people are cheer him/her on. WHY? He/she was already at home plate, why run your backside off to get back to it? I want to know why they left. Don’t they get it? They are right on top of it. Sorry to all you fans, but I am just not getting it. But, I said it has to be a metaphor. That’s the only logical reason someone would create such a game. The creator(s) were brilliant and no doubt fully Truth Realized. However, they knew they had to go all Nostradamus and speak in code, because…. well, just because (I don’t have the clearance level for that intel).
In the ‘dugout’ for nine months, or rather ‘innings’… just waiting to get a chance at bat. Finally, you are called up. You step up to home plate and now it's your turn. The roar of the fans, the smell of hot dogs, popcorn and beer, the flashing stadium light in your eyes, and bingo-bango, you are mesmerized out of the Truth, the reality… that it’s just all a setup… a total scam. You are already at home… repeat, at home! What is all the fuss about?
Imagine you are an aspiring baseball player. At your first big game, you step up to the plate, you look down and it dawns on you. The fact you have come up out of the dugout has led you to the point you are currently at, standing on Home Plate. Yeh, I know I’m repeating myself….
You just declare; “it’s a home run!” and wander off into the backfield to pick daisies for the next batter whom you find rather attractive.
Then it’s all back to the dugout and another ‘inning’. Such things as ‘ins’ and ‘outs’, strikes, balls, that bat, nine innings, there must be something to this game that I am missing. Well, I’m off to review my baseball card collection to find that million dollar card.
Please don’t get me going on Cricket. That’s just tooo much for me.
Love ya