A Failure of Vision; Parts One and Two  

Posted by Alex Pendragon

Part One......

(Please imagine the sound of gnashing of teeth......hear it? Good........please proceed with today's exciting episode of TTEM)

Sigh, I went to the eye doc today, waited about 45 minutes for my long-awaited procedure to have these FRIGGIN BOULDERS removed from the inside of my eyelid, and after reassurances from the nurse I wouldn't feel a thing, some VERY painful injections to numb my eyelid, a SECOND round of injections to reinforce the first set that didn't exactly do the job, it was decided that we would have to do this in the operating room, where they could send me on my way to LA LA land so that I wouldn't have to be there to experience the overwhelming "discomfort" that seems to accompany this procedure. I tried to tough it out, really I did, but I just couldn't handle the feeling that someone was JABBING MY DAMN EYEBALL WITH A BLUNT STICK. Reminds me of all those times the Dentist said "You're gonna feel a little pressure" right before he inflicted the worst imaginable pain. So now I get to attempt to get some sort of sleep for another five or six days, which I haven't been very successful at without taking sleeping pills.

Other than that, everything is just hunky-dory!



It COULD be worse, I suppose. He COULD be doing this to me in a CATHOLIC surgery center...........

Oh great, I can imagine my dreams tonight.........a nun standing over me in the operating room with a wooden ruler, shouting, "If thine eye offends thee, PLUCK IT OUT!!!!.........hahahahahahaha)

I don't think I'm getting any sleep tonight.





Part Two......

Tonight, in the aftermath of a botched attempt at relieving the mote in my eye, I attempt to enjoy myself watching a Ken Burns examination, I venture an accurate one, of the life of Samuel Clemens, known to those of us who payed attention in school as Mark Twain. I have always been a great admirer of this gentleman, despite the fact that I have never been in a habit of holding any mortal man upon a pedestal, or to grant hardly anyone a heroes' status. He earned my undying respect of his own accord, based upon his own words and the descriptions of historians, past and present. Fortunate would be the man today that could earn such standing, regardless of what he would be accused of.

Aside from the undeniable fact that Mr Clemens was a man far ahead of his time, his dry wit and refusal to take any man or any institution seriously, and his bravery in taking them all on with equal ferocity, is what makes me regard him with special favor and affection. Even as his lifestyle contradicted his lampoons of the privileged class, he refused to abandon his pointed efforts to illuminate the sad truths that mankind so recklessly wallows in. Perhaps enough citizens, listening to this man's mostly entertaining lectures, actually listened, and even more so learned, what he was trying to really get across and thus joined a collective mindset that today would be considered progressive, even by today's standards. I do know that even now, many of my fellow men could read something this forward looking individual passed on to us, and be enlightened, even as he laughed, which probably gives good reason to fascists, fundamentalists, and those sour of demeanor to burn his works lest they get loose amongst the public and improve them to an uncomfortable degree.

If there is any credence to be given to reincarnation, I would gladly entertain the idea of having been the soul living in Mark Twain's skin, even as now he would be so sorely disappointed in how I, as him recycled, have fared as a human being. He inspires me to be better, if not as your average man, husband, and citizen, then as a writer and a man laying claim to wit. I would like to think that how I see things are things seen as clearly and logically as Mr. Clemens himself saw them, then put to paper for all of our benefit. Alas, in all my days past and those afforded me henceforth, I do not think I shall ever lend MY readers such inspiration, wisdom, OR style of delivery, but by God, even if he DID exist, I would certainly endeavor to do so before the reaper comes to claim his due. You, my readers, are more than welcome to point out, although I would hope not cruelly, my shortcomings in that regard, but if I somehow defeat you of such an effort, I will continue to write most happily, and hopefully, not at any one's expense.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 27, 2008 at Wednesday, August 27, 2008 . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .

6 slick comments

Sam wasn't half bad, was he? I'm pretty sure Steinbeck is still my favorite.

Sorry about your eye problem. That sucks big time.

August 27, 2008 at 10:14 PM

Even his nom de plume was witty...he was waaaaay ahead of his time, now that we're all smartasses it's hard to get noticed.

August 28, 2008 at 1:47 AM

Oh and that whole eye thing made me pucker in the Netherlands.
Yeeesh!

August 28, 2008 at 1:48 AM

Ooh, ouch? How in the world are you at a computer post-procedure?

August 28, 2008 at 6:43 AM

I love it when they say, '"You're gonna feel a little pressure..." Okay, I'm old enought to know that means "You're about to be stung by 2000 pissed off hornets, masquerading as a single needle."

Mark Twain is The Man.

August 28, 2008 at 9:42 AM

Buff.....SteinWHO?

Donn, yea, we ARE all smartasses, aren't we? hehe

City, it's all in the lid, hun, not the seer itself.

Anne, well, ok, would you believe 780 pissed off fireants? Frankly, big, square, foot long, a needle is a needle, and those suckers HURT when they stick them in these delicate tissues!

August 28, 2008 at 11:17 AM

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