The Philosophy of Inquisitiveness or Rather, Why I'm Stupid (in X Amount of Words)A Story by HoWiEThe title pretty much says its all really... *sigh*
Ive always been an inquisitive sort of chap
Dont go there. I wouldnt if I were you. Stop! I wouldnt touch her with a barge pole if I were you. (2 weeks on Doxycycline, for my troubles) Dont look now. Dont touch Statements like these instantly bring up an old clich containing the words Red Rag and Bull. I blame my Mum. I remember at an early age messing about in the kitchen and making a grab for a hot pan on the stove. Mum slapped my hand away and said, Dont touch that! Its is red hot, if you touch it youll burn yourself, dont be silly! Silly. Dont be silly hmm Dont touch that hmmmm. I watched as Mum stepped into the larder to fetch the pasta. Dont touch that How hot can it be? I was a 5 year old Johnny Knoxville How hot can it be? Very f*****g hot, that was the answer; very f*****g hot indeed Consequently, I still have the scar on the palm of my right hand. I also still feel bad about my Mum crying after the Nurse in Casualty gave her a strict dressing down and a stern lecture about small boys, kitchens and hot pots. But that was the sort of kid I was. Later in life, I was lining my Piranha XL up with a steep drop rugged hill, a large tree-root-cum-ramp and a set of spiked railings. Now if I can clear those iron railings, I should be able to land my BMX on top of that asbestos roofed garage My friend Stuart eyed it warily. I wouldnt if I were you I smiled. Then I punctured a lung. Mum was absolutely pissed. Years later, on shore leave in Cartegena, Colombia. The Executive Officer of HMS Montrose made a broadcast over the Ships tanoy: You are to keep out of unmarked cars, these are NOT taxis; there are people here who represent a clear and very real danger to members of our Ships Company. Do NOT go into the old town. Do NOT accept invites into any backstreet bars, STAY in the square. Sighsome people never learn do they? A few years after that, my best mate Nick said, Mate, if I were you Id steer well clear of that bird, shes a s**t load of trouble. A word floated across my eyes, blotting out all reasonable thought. B***s. Honestly mate I wouldnt touch her with a barge pole if I were you. B***s. Sigh I now have a 9 year old son that costs me 200 a month in maintenance. It also took me a whole fortnight to get over that dose of Gonorrhoea she decided to share with me. Which was nice. I think my point is that bouts of (varying degrees of) stupidity do occasionally pay dividends. You have to chance your hand. I was a hero to my school mates for leaping over the railings, it was just a shame that the asbestos roof wasnt ready to bear the weight of one BMX (XL or otherwise) + 10 year old rider. They still talk about it even now, so I hear. I had a crazy, trouble free night in Colombia meeting some of the most interesting and colourful characters you could ever wish to meet. I recall downing shots on a table dancing with topless hookers in a bar that reminded me very much of the T***y Twister in From Dusk Til Dawn and doing the Macarena. Courtesy of the untrustworthy and decidedly unclean bar girl, I now have an amazing (and healthy) 9 year old son who, thankfully, is less adventurous and more well-balanced than I was. Of course, this all brings me to this point. This one microcosmic, life defining point. The do I or dont I? point. Becoming involved in an above top secret Government project was one of the smarter decisions I might have made in my time. I mean, this is way above Men in Black and Stargate SG1 stuff; this goes waaaay beyond. Imagine this; imagine if we could stop conflicts before they happened, before they became a twinkle in the savage eye of a dictator. Before that even Oh Im sorry Mrs Hussein, we appear to have dropped your baby. Oh dear has Mrs Hitler fallen down stairs again? That is clumsy. Congratulations Mrs Bin Laden, its a girl! Now that would be something, to alter the course of history; to affect changes before they even occurred. We have agents sat at key points throughout time, ready and waiting its really quite exciting. The difficult part is affecting these changes and rapidly tracing their effects prior to that effect becoming a major event in our time. If you change too much, everything could change, it could all end. Kind of like lighting one of a hundred fuses and tracing which stick of dynamite its going to set off before moving to a safe distance. The more recent the history, the quicker we have to trace and react if we light the wrong fuse, in short, were hosed. Of course in order to prevent this sort of clusterfuck, you always need a failsafe. Something to snuff out the crackling fuse if it looks like its going to create a massive cosmic balls-up. A backspace You need a delete button Professor Meinheimer gave me a sacrosanct nod just moments before he left for the loo. The nod meant, youre sure. It meant, you are in a position of unenviable trust. The nod meant, do NOT touch that button. Im looking at it right now The history erase button. Big, red and pulsing. A fat, mushroom, blinking. Yes / No. Yes / No. YES / NO. Oh man, now I know how those guys felt in the bunker on LOST. I mean erasing history, how bad could it be? Do NOT touch that button. I cant help but smile. Do NO- wink! ........................................................................ . ....................................................
© 2008 HoWiEAuthor's Note
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18 Reviews Added on February 26, 2008 AuthorHoWiEPlymouth,, Devon, United KingdomAboutWell, I'm back - it only took 8 years to get over my writer's block! Now 47, older, wiser and, for some reason, now a teacher having left the Armed Forces in 2012. The writing is slow going but .. more..Writing
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