A ringmaster is a character, benefitting from the glorious uniform of authority.  A costumed tyrant for circus performers, all nicely trained and willing. Can it be readily placed upon a new animation?

Center stage, bright lights, a whip perhaps for effect;  we must dress a ringmaster; and  acknowledge the authority of a costumed character.  This old circus tent housing the Temporary Museum of Enfant Terrible Culture probably has use of a discipling  ringmaster, charged by the clothing and position, grasping the antics of the gathering crowd, whipping into the middle the few for a momentary swirl in the spotlight.  Center stage, authority; far from the edge of the ring, the borderlands, the undisciplined, the audience.

Beyond the ring of authority, bombs, dramatic explosive emotions;  lurk in desire for the spotlight.  Near bursting with desire; anarchic borderlands, lair of a nemesis and the scenes of many a hero’s tragic notoriety: anticipate the limits of the ringmaster.

At those limits trifling bombs are exposed to create fury and fear: some reach the point of self-animation, and grow.  Most remain distinctly artificial.

The ringmaster and the nemesis whip belligerent valor folded into their own, to be hidden, hoarded.  Authority keeps a distant witness in the tragedy (definitely not an actor);  but uniformly claims the scars of those who took the hits and fell graceless, at the edge of the ring, the no-man’s-land, the borderlands, and into the audience.

Join us next Saturday, out beyond the tent ( maybe some peace).