The Mirror Door

Would not the ultimate faux pas be in pronouncing the phrase as, “fox pass”?  (Or am I being terminally tacky to even mention this possibility to the red-eyed-literati?)

A man discovered a way to “open doors” into the supporting fabric of life itself, but he found he could make no sense of what he saw therein, and decided he needed to construct some kind of new viewing apparatus through which to study these areas, and which would translate the scenes into comprehensible data.  But one day, whilst working on said machine, he opened one of the doors to discover another person looking back at him, and before he could blink, the other figure looked over its shoulder, apparently speaking to someone else on its side of the door, and said, “Hey, I’ve found a door that opens onto a mirror.”

In the condo-forest just west of the Mimimost Valley, two rival mystical clans arose whose every turn seemed based on the desire to out-do the other.  One faction finally put their activities in the form of a systematic religion, and built a structure with a sign announcing, “The Church of The Matter-Of-Factness.”  Not playing dead, the other clan rose up and constructed their own edifice directly across the street with the name of, “Yeah, Tell Me All About It.”  (Those who say that “tolerance is its own reward” have a lot to learn about mechanical design.)

If you’ll always smile, before you criticize, someone’s life will pass before your eyes.  (Now that I’ve said it, I don’t know whether this is humorous verse or worse.)

When I first came to this planet I readily fell into the habit of reading Man’s daily newspapers; that is, until one day while perusing one of these periodicals, being carried along by the passion of its coverage, and marveling at its facility to so quickly report on important instant affairs, I noticed that the paper was two years old.  (Now, boys and girls, have any of you ever discovered this, even when it wasn’t so?)

J.