a propos. Therein lies the jest. Workaholics and their polar opposites, the dead lazy. effortlessly come around. When realization hits home all distinctions blur. No difference. Sharp laughter unceremoniously greets even the self-composed. Especially intriguing are the ambitious. Endless quirks really. Concerted mockery recreates further patterns of futility. Basic strategy remains unchanged, though. Disguise is paramount. Dress her in robes of tarter gray, implant a slight smile, then beckon from around each corner. Create a maze, but attractive-like with flower pots. Faint knockings behind every door. A cooling breeze overhead. Genuine affability like an open air Swiss cottage in a summer meadow. The greater the false hope, the greater the final squirming. Funny stuff, for even Death at one remote corner of his being partakes in occasional mirth (why not, with his monopoly intact on everything else). 81 Back to the Contents Page 

 

DRESS REHEARSAL

"The universe is expanding". There's cause for reflection and bound to do wonders for "who am I" queries. At this late moment on the Celestial Clock, man isn't sure if he's stumbled into a Black Hole or just the debris from the Big Bang Theory. Many of the earth's residents desperately want to be E.T.'s -- travellers with carte blanche passports welcomed in any galaxy. Therein lies the ultimate twist to "getting away". Alas, what if we're alone? What if the universe expands so much it forgets there's an inhabited world and obscures the planet from our collective vision? Sobering stuff. Meanwhile, on a spaceship earth preparations are underway. Preparation to abandon the planet. Preparations to forget life is a serious matter. Preparations to drown protracted speculations about existence's intensity. E.T. mania is carrying the day. People adorn stuffed, life-sized dolls of imagined creatures on the dashboards of their cars. Children queque up for hours to get gingerbread designed from scary, monster dough. Everywhere, the question on everyone's lips is "how many of'em are there"? When will contact be made? Will they want to throw in their lot with mankind or "take over"? After all, it's our Arc. No one seriously wants reminders of Von Daniken's chariots riding again or the genetic mumble about intergalactic breeding. Going to bed with E.T. is too much. It's the Outer Limits. Propriety still has some hold even if Marian Engel did slip up and get it on with a bear. At least that was recognizable earth life. Darth is too much of a transition even if it's only a One Night Stand. E.T. is just like Bambi. He wants to go home. And alone. He's not 

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