When there are ears hung on a stick like a carrot, and you are expected to chase them like a superstitious idiot would – to get their message and send yours – do not involve yourself in the chase. In fact – set fire to the stick. And the carrot. And if there is any further doubt, set fire to yourself.
When you find ears that listen, but deliberately do not hear, cut those ears immediately from your circle of influence. You do not need them. Those ears are the ones that filter from the actual only the fantasy they want to believe. When you can only hear what you want to hear, you are really of little consequence in the big scheme of things. It is important to hear everything. You cannot pick and choose when it comes to suffering – if you are a decent human being. If you are not a decent human being, you may as well set fire to yourself in anticipation of what is to come. We cannot bother about people who only hear what they are told. We need those who hear what they are NOT told.
I would hazard a guess that those who ‘edit’ what they hear, or manipulate its message to suit their own agenda, will be hoisted by their own petard. i.e. their vain attempts to subvert another will explode in their faces and expose their lies. The thing to know is that when you blow ‘yourself’ up – or blow off ‘your’ door – your truth comes out whether you like it or not. That can be painful. You had better hope that you like – or are in favour of – your truth. If you are not, you will not last. It is that simple – given that ‘you’ – yourself – are deciding your fate. Be happy with your choices in life. They define you.
Night time at The Circus is the most exciting.
It is when the vampires come to watch. They lust for blood.
They know the wild comes out at night.
There is fire.
The Circus is in a fortunate position. Its blood-trade is spectacle.
Its lineage, too. That is why it is fortunate.
It can pull crowds with its people.
The circus people are like fairground people.
There are none like them.
Luckily for the wild animals The Circus can soon excuse them from service.
Most human beings understand their plight.
Their ‘wildness’ has worn off, anyway. They are tarnished. Has-beens.
Where is the magic in a has-been? If you are honest you will admit there is none.
If you are not convinced then take time to walk around after the show.
Peruse the cages. The stakes.
Notice the eyes of the wild animals. They are dead.
Know that is because they no longer dream.
The subject of the ringmaster is bound to come up. He is a hot topic.
He has begged off again, citing a scratch from one of the big cats.
An infection. Perhaps he will die of tiger?
More likely he will die of scorn. Or rumours.
Whichever, one more no-show and he is out.
There is a three-strike rule for ringmasters.
Of course there is his understudy. There is always an understudy.
Luckily a voice-over is a voice-over no matter who presents.
The ringmaster’s absence does not mean The Circus does not run.
It just manages itself differently.
The wild animals get a night of zoo-treatment. They do not get a night off.
Flashing cameras. Squeals. Pussy-pussy-pussy.
Watch the elephants rocking. Back and forth, back and forth.
They are not dancing, no. They are screaming.
For their captors these screams are not good news.
For the ringmaster, a depression with the elephants is especially bad news.
He is the clown when they refuse later to work for his voice.