The Sounds of Excellence

Least you begin to think that I only note foolishness in the City, let me tell you of a brand new book I saw displayed in a shop window; its title was, “How The Fourteenth Century Ultimately Became The Fifteenth.”

It may not come as a total surprise for you to hear that, to a Real Revolutionist, “everybody looks alike.”  (Sometimes, even to himself.)

Whilst sitting amidst the shadow of a Bullit Bush, I heard a would-be revolutionist say to his-ole-self, “My present state-of-mind is tomorrow’s state-of-art.” (I guess it’s good that some bushes can’t bite.)

I once heard a Psychiatrist defending his profession, specifically trying to explain why such a self-proclaimed, “significant art” was so historically late in its arrival on the human scene.  And the good doctor said, “I’ll tell you precisely why:  Up until the late eighteen hundreds, everybody was okay.”

The Real Revolutionist should run his Yellow Circuit in such a manner that the mere sonance, (okay, “noise”) of its basic operations would make him cock his ear and say, “Ah, the sounds of excellence.”

J.