This is the End…well, maybe not “The” end but the following will explain the above.
Last week’s issues concerning “commas”, the disagreements that lead to riots of a sort, are the causa belli that gathered a dullish force. It seems that noise from the comma riot in the tent made it to the metal shed in the forgotten “back-forty” that housed a number of long-time offended…Centaurs. Centaurs, bullies of myth, issued forth regaled as cavalry from the Russian steppes. Campaign season starts early for the scum-cream of mercenaries.
Mixing conspiratorial buddy-brags, arrogant bluster, bigotry, and gathering support with digital gadgets, they posted, tweeted, and re-formed into an urgent cohort; as if semi-illiterate centaurs were threatened by grammar during the “comma” riots.
Peace and hope slip-sliding away. They are demanding we, inhabitants of the tent, relinquish power and send out the troublemakers, or centaurs will charge in.
As all enfant terribles and anarchists are ipso facto troublemakers, Yorick (with”specter of death” cred) chose to embody all troublemakers, risking skeleton suicide to go alone. Remember, power accrues to madmen, especially those without fear of death: laughing at life’s arrogant, such is Yorick’s response to the master of centaurs.
If you remember, last summer Yorick (the master of the obvious) confronted the centaurs saying they were subjects of some art; not artificers; further, the centaurs were to leave, as the reunion was for emotive makers.
This was reiterated in the wind as explosions of colored shrapnel from expressionist bombs were tossed from the tent.
Wind distorted the conversation with Yorick and the Master Centaur. Mental algorithms among the hidden in the tent presumed the centaurs would leave the field due to fearing the specter of death.
But actually, Yorick presumed that the military outfits were rented (local Nutcracker Ballet Company ?), probably with damage agreements, and stated that the anarchist’s color bombs would be thrown, should bullies try to enter the tent…
…The attack on the tent ropes was energetic and even horrifying: the theatrical sharpness of the swords cut a few ropes before the centaurs retired the field of battle.
Nonetheless the trivial use of wisdom (what money will an action cost) sometimes looks like courage, sometimes cowardice.