PERHAPS we should not be sittiending the vats and washing the buildings and carrying the moo the vault once a week, like everybody else. Perhaps we should be doing something else entirely, with our lives. God knows what. We do what we do without thinking. Oends the vats and washes the buildings and carries the moo the vault and ops for a moment to sider that the whole process may be despicable. Someoanding somewhere despising us. I springs of Dax, a gouty thihinking, father five them. It was worse before. That is something that safely be said. It was worse before we found Snow White wandering in the forest. Before we found Snow White wandering in the forest we lived lives stuffed with equanimity. There was equanimity for all. We washed the buildings, tehe vats, wended our way to the ty cathouse once a week (heigh-ho). Like everybody else. We were simple beois. We knew what to do. When we found Snow White wandering in the forest, hungry and distraught, we said: "Would you like something to eat?" Now we do not know what to do. Snow White has added a dimension of fusion and misery to our lives. Whereas once we were simple beois who knew what to do, now we are plex beois who are at a loss. We do not like this plexity. We circle it wearily, prodding it from time to time with a shopkeepers forefinger: What is it? Is it, perhaps, bad for business? Equanimity has leaked away. There was a moment, however, when equanimity was not the chief sideration. That moment in which we looked at Snow White and uood for the first time that we were fond of her. That was a moment.
Rea to the hair: Two older men standing there observed Snow Whites hair black as ebony tumbling from the window. "Seems like some hair in outa that winda there," one said. "Yes it looks like hair to me," his panion replied. "Seems like there oughta be somethin to be done about it." "Yes, seems like it oughta be punished with a kiss or something." "Well were too old for all that. You need a Paul or Paul-figure for that sort of activity. Probably Paul is even now standing in the wings, girding his pants for his entrance. So I guess Ill go along to the hiring hall, where I hear there might be some work." "Ill go along with you," the other man said, "because even though I aint a A.B., I am a B.A., and maybe in the dimhe ohing will be taken for the other, and we ship out together." "I hate to go away and leave all that hair hanging there ued as it were," the first man said, "but we have a duty to our families, and to the trys mert fleet, some vessels of which are now languishing at their berths doubtless, doier 27 and Pier 32, for the lack o the likes of us. So farewell, hair! Fare thee well, and if forever, still forever, fare thee well!"
Rea to the hair: Fred the rod-roll bandleader addressed his men. "Men, something happeo me today on Mo Street. I saw a wall of hair black as ebony falling from a high window. A girl, a look. . . Men, everything is ged. I am ged. I am no lohe Fred of former times. And I say that things must be different with you, too, because you are my men, and I am your leader. Now it is quite clear to me that you men wish to play the buffalo music of your forefathers rather than the rod-roll atented, amplified, advertised and been paid for. Now I want to say right now, that thats all right with me, the buffalo music I mean. From this day forward, until the end of time, it will be nothing but buffalo musi all the dromes of the world. I dont care a rap