Garage ' Em Off
The American garage inventor outfoxed the big guys and changed the course of
history as it was destined to be in the first place.
I lived in a garage for a while. I
stapled a large sheet of transparent plastic to one of the walls and used a
small ceramic heater inside creating a little heated bubble like a small
stationary hot air balloon. I called it the cocoon and wrote a book there.
But it reminds me of what some people can do when they don't worry about
materialism.
How does the cliché go? "Try as you may"?
Well , well , well. Try as you may. Looks like there is some sort of battle
between good and evil after all out there: a battle between the functionality
of life itself versus the drive of subverted intelligence to produce a hermetic
existence.
And let me assure you this "garage" inventor thing -- that's not indigenous to
20th-century America either. Since day one there's been this kind of lunatic
effort to exercise control over human beings, human nature, etc., etc., on and
on they go. Try to control it, it'll go wild. Try to put a lid on it, it'll
explode. As in every lid bit helps.
I'm sure it will take off even better in contemporary, 21st century China. Or
in the back streets of New Delhi. I know you'll never believe me but you could
just keep from wasting an awful lot of time if you're trying to control
humanity.
It doesn't work. Somebody in the back lot somewhere, somebody in a garage, some
Goddard out in a field with a couple of enthusiasts developing rockets, some
Pierre and Marie Curie working in their little lab, some Socrates out there
teaching a bunch of teenagers for free, whatever. I mean , it goes on.
I'll tell you about some of these "evil" guys. Going around in their perpetual
Halloween costumes, wearing their religion on their sleeves, or whatever they're
trying to do, I mean sometimes they're obvious, sometimes they're not.
They're not very competent , you know. They
go back to the gambit of history. They have a profile. They are notorious for
trying to exert control. They think they belong to the ultimate tough guy
clubhouse and each one of them imagines himself to be the ultimate bad boy.
Well, they all get old. They all fade. Eventually their activities wear off. And
then, out of nowhere, out come the little "garage 'em offs" and produce some
kinda little gadget that liberates mankind, rescues the universe, or whatever it
is. It will always happen, whether or not you like it. And I'm sure you don't.
Get over it.
Now it's curious, here, as we observe our little scene of two prize fighters in
a boxing ring, coming out of their corners slugging away: when you study the
situation, you've got to realize that there is no coexistence in this scenario.
Having gotten that far, that will help you to size up your own situation in this
ongoing scenario, on how you're going to deal with this sort of thing.
I mean , this is it. That is existence in a nutshell. That is Henry Ford driving
out of his garage for the first time. Instead of Wolf Gong Schmidt or Harold
Plush Bottom, or Enri Fondue, or Toboobadere, or Vladimir Vlascommavitch, or the
man in the moon. Yes. Try as you may. And, believe me, in my lengthy travels I
have seen quite an appreciable effort on the part of the controllers running
around all over the place frantic, leash in hand, trying to snap it on 50,000 new
collars that emerge daily. An exercise in futility.,
Well, have at it boys. You embarrass me, but I know you don't care about that;
you're too busy trying to be important. So go ahead be that way. I hope you read
this, it may save you some effort, and it may help a couple of million of you to
keep from going insane. It's just that every time I hear some of your stooges
use the term "bad guys", it makes me cringe. What if some of those people out
there actually believed you? I mean, sometimes, if you don't watch it, you guys
could really get away with something big, like burying all the intellectuals
alive the way Emperor Chin of ancient China did.
Ah, I get it. Now that the microchip is getting smaller and smaller, some of you
guys out there are actually going to try to go on a massive implant campaign, a
campaign in the what next, in a massive state effort to monitor every human
being on the face of the Earth. Well, if that ever happens I could speculate
that that's the point where you start to make close encounters of the third type
and they kick your little beastly backsides in a war of the worlds that viruses
do not decide the outcome of. To paraphrase an old song "When Virus Eyes are
Smiling". Or, to put it another way, try as you may.
Copyright (c) 2005 by
Paul A. L. Hall. All rights reserved.
back
|