So one of the few things that doesn't make it from the print to the online version of the Inlander are the Calendar blurbs, these 200 word write-ups about stuff that is going on that week. This week I got stuck was assigned the Shriner Circus:
I remember what got me into quantum physics in the first place. My parents had taken my to the circus, the one they bring in to raise the money for the local Shriner's Children's Hospital, and suddenly there was this tiny car in the center ring. And out popped a clown. And then another and then another until there was a stream of painted harlequins pouring from this joke of a Yugo. How did they do it? What secrets had these men and women discovered that allowed them to fold space and time inside that car? I imagined them in there, stuffed together in quantum entanglement, lounging poolside, reading Jonathan Franz novels while they waited for their turn to exit. A tuxedo-clad maitre d' calmly stands by his podium next to the entrance to the car, the queue of clowns is kept organized by his fussy primness and firm demeanor. As I contemplated this city of clowns inside the car I was buffeted by the crowd around me until I looked up from my reverie and saw I had been shoved into the center ring in a tent full of quiet watchful clowns. As I awoke from nightmare gasping for air I remembered what made it all worthwhile. It was for the children.
And with that I am unplugging for the night. Insomnia and a splitting migraine have delayed your regularly scheduled Meta Sketchblog.
I remember what got me into quantum physics in the first place. My parents had taken my to the circus, the one they bring in to raise the money for the local Shriner's Children's Hospital, and suddenly there was this tiny car in the center ring. And out popped a clown. And then another and then another until there was a stream of painted harlequins pouring from this joke of a Yugo. How did they do it? What secrets had these men and women discovered that allowed them to fold space and time inside that car? I imagined them in there, stuffed together in quantum entanglement, lounging poolside, reading Jonathan Franz novels while they waited for their turn to exit. A tuxedo-clad maitre d' calmly stands by his podium next to the entrance to the car, the queue of clowns is kept organized by his fussy primness and firm demeanor. As I contemplated this city of clowns inside the car I was buffeted by the crowd around me until I looked up from my reverie and saw I had been shoved into the center ring in a tent full of quiet watchful clowns. As I awoke from nightmare gasping for air I remembered what made it all worthwhile. It was for the children.
And with that I am unplugging for the night. Insomnia and a splitting migraine have delayed your regularly scheduled Meta Sketchblog.
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Date: 22 Apr 2005 20:24 (UTC)no subject
Date: 22 Apr 2005 21:11 (UTC)