After two really stupendous days in the shop the High Street has turned its back on me again and I am slipping into a black hole of boredom. So many things that need doing and they are all just - things that need doing. Nothing sets the pulses racing. Nothing grips the imagination. Nothing keeps me awake. A prospective customer came in at 11.38am to ask if I had a book on butterflies. I stared vacantly at her for all of a second (that's a long time if you are Photon Fred racing round that 27km particle collider this morning) before I could remember what a butterfly was. We should be able to put ourselves into cold storage, a semi-cryogenic state that carries us through the dull bits of life and preserves us bright eyed for the interesting bits.
Instead my mind mulls over the Photon Olympics. '...and 1 second into the race it's Photon Fred in the lead at 111 circuits being lapped as I speak by Photon Phil on his 115th circuit and now Photon Fred on his 222nd circuit has just edged into... on no there goes Phil... oh damn it all... bring on the Black Hole someone... for god's sake... oh sorry there is no god... What? You ARE god? You came here today to ask what the hell's going on? Well that's a damn silly question. What do you think is going on oh all powerful and omniscient one.. If YOU don't know, who does... You made it all, we're just trying to see how it works so we can make a better one next time.. Well don't get huffy at me, you have to admit there are a few flaws... I could show you them if you have the back of an envelope handy... meet you in an hour or so? Meet you where? The restaurant at the end of the Universe ... fine if you're paying, but I bet it's all booked up on a day like today...
No comments:
Post a Comment