Well… that line about the tolling bell was already taken, so…
Once upon a time, there were two brothers who roamed the plains, searching for great deeds to accomplish in order to gain fame and fortune and, especially, to reach the Holy Grail… well, in their case it could be called the “Holey” one, for it seemed to leak everything. They had made it clear they both wanted the big one, and that each one was willing to do anything that needed to be done in order to get it. In other words, they were ready to duke it out.
The prize they both wanted was a job. Yes Virginia, a job. Now, please understand this was not a common job, no run of the mill niner to fiver deal here, no siree. This was a job that brought prestige, fame, fortune, position and power beyond belief. It brought power to control the destiny of the plains ands all the plainers who lived therein.
But it also brought with it the opportunity to blow everything around you to smithereens; to embarrass yourself and to be always remembered, in the texts the plainer children would forevermore study as… the Failed One.
Oh, it was a special job, that one. So special that all others paled in comparison. It truly was the embodiment of a lifetime’s dream; a realization that only a few could ever think of achieving and even less would actually accomplish.
How would the brothers go about getting such a plum?... you are certain to ask. Well, as it turns out, there are no real qualifications written down, other than being a born plainer. Just perceived ones. You see… you don’t really get hired by a personnel manager… sorry, human resources specialist. One of the brothers would actually get pegged by an “at-large” committee of a majority of plainers who on hearing their discourses and seeing their shows, would either buy their montage … or not.
Truth be dammed…
So, imagine Inny and Minny (Ahh… real names withheld by request and for their protection or… maybe mine) had to go out and convince their fellow plainers that each one (separately, of course…) was the best available for the position.
-“He doesn’t know squat…!” would shout the one to whoever would listen…
-“He has no clue…!” would answer the other one, from his corner and surrounded by his personal staff of highly trained advisors…
-“He lies…!” would come back from the other hidey hole
-“He doesn’t know truth…!” would be heard from the other brother…
-“He’s a caveman…!” Insisted the first;
-“He’s a flightless dodo…!” screamed the other …
The funny thing is, they would actually pay people to come up with these ditties… I think they called them “staff writers”… the real purpose of all the shouting was to mask reality and their respective failings… to push the plainers’ attention to the banal instead of allowing them to visualize the actual bottom line(s).
And so it went… on and on and on. If nothing else, the ongoing show was good for some laughs, except that once in a while some tears of anger and frustration came along for the ride.
So, Fellow Plainers… whenever you hear Inny and Minny shouting and discoursing, remember this is The Greatest Show on Earth… it has everything: music, noise and noisemakers (galore), make believe, songs of promises and, best of all… a host of supporting clowns... although often they are not really that funny.
Look beyond the lights and listen beyond the noise. Look at and question the real issues that can make us or brake us here in the Plains… don’t let the show confuse you… don’t let the easy and folksy talk lull you to sleep.
In the end, “he who blows harder will probably be short of breath”… Hopefully, whoever makes it to the highest Seat On The Plains, will have enough wind left to fill our collective sails.
In the meantime… Let the Show Go On…
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