Now that I have retired as a school teacher, I have so many spare thinks to think which I do not have to use to guide the future of school children, that I begin to wonder what I am really going to do with all those closets and suitcases full of spare thinks beyond allowing them to simply pile up.
A lot of those spare thinks lately have been taken up by the imponderable primate that has taken over the government of our little country. I am keenly aware that, in the arc of history, nations and countries and even peoples reach the eventual end of the road and simply are no more. Our country could very well be headed the way of the Roman Empire, the Maurya Empire, the Mongol Empire, and the Abbasid Caliphate. They all ended with a mixture of violence and upheaval and suffering. And did you even know that they existed? Did you know that the Roman Empire was the smallest one on my list?
The imponderable primate has also moved the Doomsday Clock thirty seconds closer to midnight. The threats posed by nuclear war and global warming are made greater now because the hand on the ship’s wheel of the most powerful ship of state in the modern world is a tiny, unsteady hand controlled by a “really good brain”. That’s why my Stardusters novel is a comedy about the end of the world and uses parodies of conservative politicians from our world to play the roles of lizard men intent on destroying their own planet.
I had intended to write a piece today about naked people, a light and breezy essay in more ways than one. But I don’t want to let that turn into soft core porn or anything. It needs to be more carefully planned and carried out. Naked people really aren’t the danger that conservative and born-again Christians fear that they are, but you have to be careful of people’s sensibilities anyway. Especially when you are mentally writing stuff with no metaphorical clothes on. So I put that aside for the moment and spent some time this morning pondering the nature of pondering, what I think about thinking. And so, while sorting through baskets and suitcases and a packed garage full of spare thinks, I wrote this essay instead, to write about nothing in a way that might actually mean something. And if you believe that, it is no wonder the orange fellow was able to fool us all.