Madman
I've got a few spiders that live in my
head and they walk around with tiny blades on their eight tiny feet
except for one that has seven feet and when they speak it's like
they're speaking, but it's too many voices at once coming out of each
of their mouths and you can't understand what they're saying and I
bought a bag of doorknobs once.
They call me Madman. The people I
know, not the spiders. Well, the people I don't know, too. The ones
in the television that talk to me and about me and to others about
me, just so I'm clear here. I'm being clear, aren't I? Sometimes
it's hard to tell and other times I don't care to tell because what's
the point, really, if I was being clear or wasn't being clear? At
worst it would be unintelligible crazy talk and at best it would be
clearly crazy talk, wouldn't it? A mish-mashed tidal wave of
titillating talky-talk meant to invade your ear-holes and give me
residence in your mind and trust me, once I'm in there, I'm not
coming out. It's cozy in there. You have cable tv and stadium
seating.
Back to the doorknobs. See, the
doorknobs will help you understand it and me and the spiders and the
hub-bub of silliness going on upstairs. Because if I start with the
spiders, you'll just write me off. HA! Book joke.
So, I bought a bag of doorknobs. I
didn't need a bag of doorknobs, but I bought a bag of doorknobs. It
wasn't even an impulse purchase. I saw them online. I had to go
through log-in screens and enter in my credit card number and a
shipping address and a billing address (although I cheated and just
clicked that box that same “shipping address is same as billing
address” or vice-versa, I forget which, and it filled in one or the
other based on the information I put into the other or one to begin
with). The point is, I bought doorknobs. A lot of doorknobs. See,
they were shiny. And I like brass. Don't judge me. Like you've
never bought a bag of doorknobs for a stupid reason.
No, I don't mean a literal bag of
doorknobs. You've bought something stupid though, haven't you? For
a stupid reason? Like a shoe that's going to make you feel like a
man or a knife that's going to help with your daddy issues or... I
might have got that backwards. You get the idea. Everyone makes
stupid purchase that they can't explain from time to time. Now you
take that and just amp it up a little. Just a bit. Bitty bit. Then
you have me!
That's all I am. I'm just the little
eccentricities we all have with the power amped up a little bit. I
have the same unexplainable tendencies, like people who salt their
food before trying it or people that tap their thumbs on the steering
wheel when they're in traffic. It's like that, just a little bigger
and all-consuming. You don't know why you tap your fingers or you
might say “I was just bored” but that doesn't really explain it,
does it? You'll stop when someone points it out and that's all the
difference between you and me. I can't stop. And I blame the
spiders, but that makes just as much sense as blaming boredom.
Okay. Maybe there's one more
difference between you and me. I dress up in lime green and go
running around on the street breaking the laws of man, god, and
social decency. I can't guarantee that you don't do that as well,
but I'm going with the math on this one and saying there is a very
small probability that you do, and if you do, why haven't you come to
any of the meetings? They're fun, but playing Connect Four by myself
is a little boring.
Time to come clean. I'm lying about
all of this. Connect Four by myself is awesome!
