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English Department
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Whitman College |
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I don't know much about Alan Fobbs, but from what I've read, it's obvious: we should put him away quickly--without guilt, without sadness.
Fobbs says "You can't carry too many bricks in a box," and someplace out there I can see such people worrying about that. Are we talking about standard red bricks or soft, adobe bricks? Are we talking about those little Z-Brick facings for fireplaces? or maybe the largish blond ones we line kilns with? If we're talking about the standard bricks, we can, of course, put fifteen or sixteen in a box and still be able to carry the box . . . or if those bricks have holes in them, we mightcould carry one or two more. . .
And while Fobbs tells us "Every year, more and more people grow old," just how many people are growing old depends on what we mean by growing "old," doesn't it? And isn't there a problem of labeling, too? and observational data? If Fobbs is talking about mental oldness, how would he know how many people "grow old" as opposed to grow "senile" or grow "debilitated" or grow "childlike" or "light-headed"? What, in fact, does it mean to "grow old" and how could we measure it? . . .
Whirr, whirr . . . I can hear their minds working and I don't like the sound of sweat on gears. Someplace out there somebody wants to discuss metaphoric whirrth in "Everyone ought to think about mittens" or "Some things float" . . . And deer. Deer are whirring in the air. Right now, people are worrying about how many of them we can put in a freezer. (Are we talking about chest style or upright or side-by-side? frost free or half full of chicken wings? Is there an ice maker in the door? Are we talking about we talking about common white-tailed deer or coastal deer or the wee ones with the little spikey antlers?) There must be some standardized notion of deerness or everything falls apart . . .
(Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm . . . Perhaps it's time to put this Fobbs
fellow away and go outside instead, where we can do something more
constructive like beat up the wasps on the porch with our Jack Purcells.)