Digressions and Divergings
February 2, 2012 in Blogs
As the groundhog seeks and probably finds his shadow, telling us that there are six more weeks of winter rather than, as my father often observes, a month and a half, I am nearing the end of the present Examiner temporal anomalies series, posting Blackadder Back & Forth part 12: divergence, which tries, unsuccessfully, to find a version of multiple dimension theory that will give us the results we find in the film. Meanwhile, my mind wanders to several other subjects.
One of those is a silly bit that ought to be written somewhere. It is said in the Multiverser Referee’s Rules, in the appendix describing a few characters, it says, “Most famous of the Alchemist’s equipment quirks is his pockets. There is a 60% chance of any small object being found in them.” This past weekend that statement got a shot of adrenaline. As you perhaps know, the Alchemist, also known as the Architect, is my original game persona. I was at a birthday party this weekend, and there came a moment when we began opening presents. As the first of the wrappings was removed, the child’s mother was for a moment holding the trash, and I said I thought I could help with that. I promptly pulled a full-sized intact thirty-three gallon black plastic trash bag from my pocket and handed it to her, which was then used for the remainder of the day to collect party trash.
It would be reasonable for you to wonder why I had a trash bag in my pocket, and perhaps I ought to let you wonder, but it might help your understanding of this mysterious character if I offer the explanation. I had used such a bag to transport several presents on the long journey in the car, to keep them contained, clean, and intact in the rear, and to carry them inside. Once they were inside, I removed them from the bag and was left holding, well, the bag. Not seeing any good place for it and not wishing to turn a useful object into trash, I balled it up and stuffed it in my jeans pocket, where it remained for an hour or two until it was needed. That, then, is how those objects wind up in his (or my) pockets.
On another note, a week from tomorrow we have a Collision rehearsal, the first of the new year. I’ve talked with the drummer and expect everyone to be there, and even wrote up an extra brass part for an experiment.
My brain is rattling through several other matters, but they don’t matter, so I’ll move forward.
–M. J. Young