persiflage

April 16th, 2009

The dearest ambition of a slave is not liberty, but to have a slave of his own.

Sir Richard Francis Burton

Classifieds

For sale: potato eyes. $3/doz. Box 12.
For Hire: post hole augur. I can tell the future merely by looking into the slot of your mailbox. Box 18.
For sale: the complete short novels of Aarg Barfarj. Ideal for enthusiasts of Barfarj's fiction. Make me an offer! Box 789.
I'm thinking of a number between one and ten. If you know what it is, contact me at Box 8.

Tip For Spring Living #4:

In order to avoid being splashed whilst walking down the street, carry a four by eight sheet of plywood and hold it betwixt you and the roadway. This is much easier if you put a handle on it.

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persiflagemag@hotmail.com

The Joy of Discovery

Who amongst us has not known the joy of discovery? A show of hands please. That's what I thought. Even the most ill-travelled and incurious of you has, at some point in time, discovered something and been gratified by it. There is something in the human soul (note the spelling) that yearns to find new things, places, smells et cetera (as the Romans were accustomed to say).

Since the first individuals stumbled out of Olduvai Gorge in order to see what lay beyond the boundaries of their known world, human beings have longed to see and know stuff that the people around them haven't seen or don't know.

A good part of the joy of discovery is that joy - the joy of exclusive knowledge. Whether it is a continent, the source of a major river or a really great place for pie, there is a certain pleasure in being able to smugly revel in knowing about something that nobody else does.

Imagine the joy of Columbus (the guy not the city) when he discovered India. Well, not India but the Bahamas (where it was better). He must have thought to himself: "Ha! Nobody else knows about this place." Obviously he meant nobody he knew. Clearly the people living there knew about it.

Hard to say how the Tainos felt about discovering Columbus on their doorstep that morning (there being so few of them left around to ask). Maybe those first guys on the beach got a little rush, thinking to themselves: "Hey, we're the only guys who know about this pale character in the funny pants!" Maybe they felt pretty smug about discovering the first white man. I mean after all they had no idea what a giant pain in the ass he was going to turn out to be.

My point I guess (if I have to have one) is this: that little rush you get from new and exclusive knowledge doesn't last. You might as well enjoy it. The pie place gets too crowded, the pristine falls are overrun by cannonballing frat boys, the continent turns out to be mostly ice and penguins. The first rush of knowledge is a wondrous thing but just knowing stuff blows.

Hugh Briss

The Mystery of the Lost Lenore

Listen to Part One by clicking on the photograph

This recording is about nine minutes long so I would advise getting comfortable.