Shouts From Down Under

Everyone seems to be waiting. There's a good reason for it..

Has it escaped your notice that delays in life were put there on purpose, for a purpose?

There was never any accident for the formation of queues, hours spent in airports, on train stations, in the clinic or hospital waiting room, in long lines at the Deli or at the checkouts, at the traffic lights, crosslegged outside toilets; ohhh this could go on and on and on all day before exhaustion could even begin to be approached regarding wasted time waiting. Run on sentences are just micro-lessons to teach us the true reason for waiting, so basically suck it up I guess. That's the cosmos speaking, not me. I'm not to blame here. This is as set in concrete as Pythagorus' Theorem. C2 = A2 + B2.

WAITING.

The question of so many periods of waiting is finally solved, here today in this blog entry. As a reader, you can recline in your seat sighing with relieved tension, total relaxation mode activated, and become fullly aware (even some raised neck hairs and goosebumps wouldn't hurt) of witnessing first hand a cusp in history.

WAITING.

The sole purpose of waiting, in whatever form it takes, deliberate or accidental, is for thinking. And there is a specific group who benefit directly from extended stretches of THINKING.

Of course, being the sharp edged, with-it blog reader, you're onto it already, aren't you? You are one of these, a member of this group.

WRITING.

Yes, WAITING. Delays, postponement, intervals - whatever you want to call it, were created and are created, just for us.

Until more writers wake up to this hidden gold mine of time, sadly, it will be wasted on frivolity such as texting, depression, worrying, blankness, gossiping, silly humour, dad jokes, watching TV, playing computer games, reading cheap pulp fiction and love yarns, staring into space, being ill, smoking joints, spying, man-cave dwelling, crash dieting, and all the other profitless pursuits we might put into practice.

We all waste this time of waiting that could be put to extremely valuable use. It could and should be put to the use of THINKING.



Yes, folks. This is the discovery today, mid 2014, and I'm surprised Hawking or Einstein, Prof. Masamichi Takesaki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masamichi_Takesaki), or Sultan Khan (http://www.chess.com/article/view/a-genius-from-india) didn't stumble across this life changing thought process.

The next time you feel an episode of WAITING come over you, cross your path or whatnot, don't feel all those other useless emotions, or divert your energy into negative choices. The world is at your feet.

All jokes aside, I was doing some of this WAITING today, and it was of the "watching-paint-dry" category, where time surely slows down somehow, but some THINKING profit came to me.

THINKING = WEIRDNESS, mostly, with me, so I have to weed out all the socially unacceptable dross, skim that off for later regurgitation - to use in novels.
In the here and now of reality ie being present in body AND mind with my wife and remaining teen-child, I did some THINKING and an idea popped into my head, perhaps worthy of a novel based on it, perhaps worthy of my General Practitioner advising an adjustment of my medication.

Still. WAITING = PROFIT for WRITERS. That's the equation that Einstien SHOULD have come up with.

GREAT WAITING = THNKING = WRITING IDEAS.

My favourite thinking whatsy is the WHAT IF's.

I saw it so clearly, like real people moving about. I saw the long rows of shelving with the books tidily pushed together, sorted, dewey decimal optimised, spines even, quietness of normal libraries everywhere.

What if something happened, like a ratchet of the Matrix / Grid let go, some strands of the fabric of biomassed, reiki-ised cellular reflexology tore in one spot and, much like in a few humourous themes of Calvin and Hobbes comics, the laws of perspective and dimensions and mass lost their rigid nature.

Yes, the intent of all those words, sitting in silence between the pages of all those tomes on the shelves, the words LET GO. The consiousness of every writer in every book present suddenly changed its material makeup and became real tissue, real people.

See it for yourself. Can't you? You're a writer, right?

Perhaps it would happen over a period of hours. In only one library to begin with, in the little musty war memorial community library of XYZ Council Library in Western Utah. (Please don't tell me there is no such place. I just thought this up, ok?)

So, it's a quiet day in the library there, but where did that strangely dressed patron spring from? He's wearing fancy dress clothing and looks just like a character out of Great Expectations.

Yes, he looks just like Bentley Drummle! (http://www.shmoop.com/great-expectations/bentley-drummle.html)
Normally he's "mean, haughty and abrasive" but today he's dismayed, wild eyed and lost looking. He can't understand how the heck he got here, where here is, and has never seen such decor or building fixtures in all his life. I mean, look at the lights for crying out loud!
Pity help the first "real" person to come across this character who has "slipped" in space time out of a book on a shelf.
He's the first of many thousands that will squeeze out of ink "characters" on a page, into different material world "characters".

Yes, there will be some uncomfortable times to come with this disaster, and that's what it is, with multiple copies of the same person existing now, with the only consolation that once this world wide phenomena is realised, taken control of by governments of all countries through cooperation (that has to be the most unlikely part of all this) all of them, the characters out of the books that is, make arrangements to meet up.

You have a few hundred Hitlers in one room. You have thousands of Madonnas. There are many many people who just don't fit in anywhere, such as comic characters, exagerated entities and lets not bother discussing the aliens from books of writers like Isaac Asimov and his fellow culprits.


That's what it comes down to in the end; I can see it so vividly now.

Writers are BLAMED. If it wasn't for us, the world wouldn't be IN this mess. There is no cure, no way of going back, no reversal of this dreadful chain of events that far out-disastered any of the world wars.
Mankind (personkind) will never be the same again.

Perhaps a bit more THINKING in that WAITING period - put to good use - and a novelist would realise all writers had to do was write a new book.




The story line just so happened to replace all and every character that escaped out of books BACK INTO THE BOOKS.
Then every library and person (this catastrophe happend in private book collections too) would buy the book and leave it casually lying around their house or library, in the glovebox of the car, or tucked away in an office drawer.

After a couple of hours, maybe days, all the errant story dwelling figments of writer's weird imaginations would all be absorbed, or netted, back into their respective stories.

The world would all be back to normal, writer's would be praised again, and I'd be rich. Because I wrote the book to fix the problem, and sold so many copies.

You can see what a good solid stomach clencing period of WAITING can do for you and your career.

You heard it here first. Just remember that.


Sparky