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Sven (his real name - what kind of a spineless wimp would use a psuedonym
to avoid having to stand up for his own opinions?) has opinions. And what
makes him qualified to have and share these opinions? Sven has a B.A., and
M.A., a Ph.D., an M.D., a J.D., an RSVP, and a Q.E.D. You may think such
an over-educated person would be stifled by the enormous knowledge which
clogs his brain. However, Sven cannot be accused of knowing anything! Ha!
He has managed to avoid all knowledge. It is this total lack of knowledge
and its accompanying total lack of perspective which makes Sven perfectly
suited to sit in the corner and build with his blocks...no, no... perfectly
suited to rule the world!!!.... no, no....sit around and pontificate
on whatever comes to mind? Yeah!
Actually, Sven is just an ordinary geek with some small education (3'6"),
an interest in levitation (only in his sleep so far) and all-around cool
nine-dimensional being. He was raised by in a small village in the Amazon
rainforest, where he learned to hunt jaguars with a blowpipe, weave rugs
from various fibers, tell the difference between lethal and edible jungle
fruits, and to integrate sine. When Sven decided to leave home and explore
the world he was shocked to realize it was only 500 b.c.! By adopting various
personaes he gradually introduced the world to civilization (sanitation,
comic books, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups). Since then Sven has occupied his
time by measuring the rate of growth of toenails and trying to figure out
who invented left and right.
Sven thinks you should listen to his opinion and read what he reads because...
otherwise you will break out in sudden rash, your family will revert to
a neanderthal state, and your pets will build a small nuclear weapon. How
about that?
fog slowly descends,
a weary sailor seeking
a beacon in the night.
Sven does not seek wisdom, wealth, or fame. Nor does he seek beauty, or health, or happiness. All Sven really looks for are the little things in life. Warm bread, a sunny day and immortality.
I just got back from visiting Juan Ortiz, an obstetrician friend of mine
in Los Angeles. He was nominally on vacation, but one day there was an emergency
delivery he just had to attend, so he deputized his brother-in-law Obie
Stihl - honest to God - deputized Obie to show me around town. We went to
Disneyland. Obie turned out to be a total Star Wars freak with a depraved
sense of humor, so that, for instance, when he noticed that the sailors
we had passed on the way in were all Chief Petty Officers he made sure to
point out the 'Three C.P.O.s'. So he took me to Adventureland, where you
go on a Jungle Boat Ride. You know, robot hippos spitting water and so forth.
But the worst part was the damned boat captain. He kept up a running commentary
filled with bad jokes, worse puns, mother-in-law jokes even. I was in severe
pain; the fella thought he was a real hot dog. But the wurst was yet to
come. As we got back to the wharf, just as I was stepping off the boat,
Obie leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Now you're getting to see
the dark side of the farce..."
I cringed, but I guess that's about what you can expect when your guide
is O.B. Juan's kin Obie.
(If you thought that was funny, thank Spider Robinson. If not, blame my
poor adaptation of the original.)