I am not sure
if I attract crazy fuckers or if subconsciously I seek them out. I met another
one today - albeit briefly. There is a disproportionate number of mad people
living here in Singapore. The island is full of them. It is quite possible that
the incessant heat bakes brains and causes this madness or perhaps it is the
insanity of the natives that has a rub on effect.
It could be a
combination of both.
It has been a
hell of a day. The smoke haze that has shrouded Singapore for the past couple
of days has wreaked havoc at my place of work and at all places of work. The
air is almost unbreathable. I have been running around trying to get things
fixed in my office and I am utterly exhausted. Preventing the smoke from
intruding into our building is proving impossible. Our air filtration system is
state-of-art but it is in overdrive.
On my way home
from work early this evening I stopped at one of my regular coffee shops for a
strong hit of caffeine and a slice of wicked cheesecake. The cake was topped
with blueberry puree and a generous dollop of whipped cream. It was stonking
and it was delicious. As I was licking the remnants of my cheesecake from my
plate a very skinny and extremely tall man came and sat next to me. He plonked himself
down. I could tell instantly that he was deranged by his boggled eyes and the
way that he was waving his hands around. He appeared to be swatting invisible
insects away from his head.
The man was
wearing a red and white striped tee shirt with cut off blue jean shorts. He had
knee-high red and white striped socks on with patent leather sandals. His hair
was wild and disheveled and he was wearing round spectacles that were balanced
on the tip of his nose. They appeared to be held together by rubber bands and
pieces of yellow tape. He was a splitting image of the character Wally from the
children's book "Where's Wally?"
Here is a
picture of the Wally that I am referring to:
"Where's
Wally?" is a sort of a picture book that both my kids used to love when
they were little. It is full of very detailed and colorful pictures.
Children are challenged to seek out Wally amongst a mass of people and
images. I used to like it myself and I still do. Here is a pictorial example:
Wally is not
easy to find.
"Are
you alright there big fella?" I enquired to the Wally lookalike as he sat down.
"Non
mon frère" he shouted at me.
'Shit' I immediately thought to
myself. A crazy French fucker.
"What's
the problem Frenchy?" I asked.
I instantly
assessed that he was quite demented but that he was likely not too dangerous. I
have a sense for such things. I don't mind talking to lunatics. I rather like
it actually and am quite used to it. I work with many a moron and I have to
deal with them on a daily basis. Crazies are very often quite interesting and
entertaining. As already mentioned, I seem to attract them. Like nectar to
bees. Like iron to a magnet. I must send out a psychic signal that says, 'come
hither all ye crazy dudes'.
Frenchy let
loose with a tirade of French. I could not understand a word.
"Merde" I interjected. This is
French for "shit".
"Je ne
parle pas Francais mon ami" I added.
This
translates to "I do not speak French my friend". Which is a
bit wrong actually because I uttered this in French. So I do in fact speak some
French - but very little. Un peu.
It did not
dissuade him and he continued his tirade in French.
I shrugged my
shoulders and gave him a I-do-not-know-what-you-are-saying-you-crazy-fucker
look and he suddenly seemed to get it.
"Zees
smoke is from a boom" he said.
"A
boom?"
I asked.
"A
boom"
he repeated.
"Ze
Americans av drooped a boom"
"Oh a
bomb?"
"Oui a
boom. Zey have drooped a boom on zee Chinese"
"Pas
mon ami" I replied.
This is French
for, "No my friend"
"This
smoke is from Indonesia where there are some very big fires" I informed him.
"Non
Non!"
he asserted. Loudly. He was gesticulating now and he was waving his hands
around.
"Zee
American peegs have drooped a boom on zee Chinese"
Any doubts
that I may have had that this bloke was not crazy now instantly dissipated. It
was obvious that he was as mad as a cut snake. He was as mad as a march hare.
The term 'as
mad as a march hare' is idiomatic. A hare is a very big rabbit. The phrase
can be traced back to the sixteenth century where it was first recorded in
English literature. In a poem in fact. The month of March was the start of the
breeding season for wild hares and during the breeding season very horny male
hares were apparently often observed to behave very strangely and quite
erratically. They would leap into the air and spin around. They would stand on
their hind legs and shadow box invisible opponents. They were considered to be
quite mad.
The phrase was
first recorded in a poem written in the year 1500. The poem was titled,
"Blowbol's Test". It included the line, "Thanne bey begyn to
swerve and to stare - and be as brainless as a marshe hare". This is
'old English'. Writing it has greatly distressed the spellcheck function on my
Mac and I have had to manually over ride the auto correction. In modern English
it would read, "Then they began to swerve and to stare - and be as
brainless as a March hare"
The March Hare
and it's association with madness became much popularized in Lewis Carroll's 'Alice's
Adventures in Wonderland'. The March Hare was a very enigmatic character in
this tale and he was indeed both mad and erratic.
There is a
great deal of speculation about Lewis Carroll and his possible use of
hallucinogenic drugs. There is some evidence to suggest that he was a user of
laudanum. This was an opiate pain killer that was popular during the latter
part of the nineteenth century. I like to think that Caroll just had a very
vivid imagination. His writing is wonderful.
"Listen
mate"
I said to the French crazy.
"I am
well aware that the Americans love to drop booms on people but I can assure you
that they have not boomed the Chinese. This smoke is from fires that are raging
in Indonesia"
"Zee
booms have been drooped" he insisted.
He smiled very
knowingly at me as he said this but in a demented and a little bit scary
fashion. His nostrils were flaring as he grinned at me and a little drool
leaked from his mouth onto his chin.
"How
do you know this?" I enquired.
I was
genuinely interested why he would think such a thing.
"I
have seen this and I have seen zee booms being drooped back" he replied.
"Booms
have been drooped back?" I asked.
"Oui
booms have been drooped back"
"On
America?"
"On
zee whole world. Eet has been destroyed"
"That
doesn't seem very likely" I scoffed.
"We
would have seen it on the news. Why do you think such an event has
occurred?"
"I am
here from zee footure"
"You
are from the future?" I enquired.
I ever so
subtly pushed back the chair in which I was sitting now. I wanted to put a bit
more distance between myself and the dude. The thought entered my mind that he
might perhaps be a little dangerous after all.
"You
are a time traveller then?"
"Oui.
I am from zee footure" he screeched.
"You
have a time traveling machine?"
"Non
Non!"
he yelled.
"I am
zee machine of traveling time"
One of his
legs then began twitching uncontrollably and his eyes rolled into the back of
his head. I noticed that some of the other customers in the cafe had stopped
their conversations and were openly staring at us. Some were gaping. I didn't
blame them. I sensed that it was time for me to make an escape from this nut -
as quickly as possible.
"OK
dude"
I said.
"I
must leave now and get home to the safety of my bomb shelter. I am worried
about the booms"
The lunatic
laughed and again began swatting at things that I couldn't see. I scooped up my
half finished cup of coffee and rose to my feet. Everyone in the cafe was
looking at us now and many of them looked quite alarmed.
I was quite
alarmed myself.
"Au
revoir mon ami" I said to the mad French man as I began to cautiously back away from
him.
"Perhaps
we can meet here again last Tuesday?" I suggested.
"Before
the booms drop"
He grinned
manically at me and nodded enthusiastically.
I then turned
and walked away as quickly as I could.
I didn't look
back.
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