The fish tree goal
Al slowly supped his pint, and with very weary eyes, with lids as heavy as lead, he struggled to keep his eyes open. With each blink of his eyelids he tried to speak. He was royally drunk. With a slur in his voice he began:
“So there was Jug, Carl Jung, the sigh… the psychologist, listening to this woman on a cow… on a couch, and she’s talking about a fish… a vision she’d had about a blah…sorry… a black scarab beetle, when lo and bee… behold a bee… beetle flew in the wind… the window. Now old Carl knew the beetle was the edge… excuse me… the Egyptian symbol for rebirth, so he told the woman it was no Cohen… no coincidence, what with the beetle in the wind and the edge and all that… it just thunderlined the woman's need to ease… to escape an over-attachment to rash… to rash… to rationalism. Sink… Synchronicity was what it was”
Al was trying to score points against me, and he smiled and nodded with immense satisfaction once he had completed the sentence. I played the old "but nevertheless" gambit on him. I dipped my tongue in a pot of super glue and began:
“But remember Borges… didn’t he say there was a man who had a fish… a vision about a potter goal… gold hidden in a core… courtyard under a tree, and when he told his family about it they thaw… are you listening… they thought he was crazy. Nevertheless he followed his dream and found the core and the tree but no goal, and the owner of the how… how’s your father… house comes up an asks him what’s he doing there, and he says following a fish… vision. So the owner says I’ve had fish… visions but I never do anything about them, they’re a weighs… complete waste of time. I’ve had a fish about a core and a tree and a goal, but I’m not stew… are you asleep… stupid enough to do anything about it. The first man’s eyes sparkled because he wreck… you hearing me... recognised his own house in the mans description, and he went home and scored the goal. Fish are the collie… collective con… conch… consciousness of humanity”
Al had slipped off his chair and was lying on the floor. I had drunk him under the table.