The sign said, "You are here." But I already knew that. what I desperately wanted to know was where here was. I know where I am, but where is here? These signs are useless, not to mention ugly as sin. There's another question, "Is sin ugly?" It never seemed so to me. Why do they speak of something that's attractive as being "tempting?" Why would temptation be attractive and the succumbing to it ugly? I don't get it. Then again, I rarely "get" much of anything, certainly not money, fame, or even a simple eptitude. The word processor flags "eptitude" as a misspelling, yet ineptitude is fine. Can't I be "ept?"
Where was I? Oh yeah, I was looking at that silly sign. Must be a Tech Support sign. It's perfectly accurate, yet at the same time of no earthly use to anyone. I'm still "here" wherever that might be. I think I'll wander off down this hallway and see what's in this direction.
After walking several yards, turning several corners and going down one flight, I come upon another sign. It says the same thing. "You are here." Yet on this sign, "here" seems to be in a different place than the "here" on the previous sign. I'm still "here" even though I've gone several yards, turned several corners and gone down a flight. Yet here has changed, and I'm assuming I have too for having accumulated the experience of coming several yards, having turned several corners and having gone down a flight. Why do they call them flights. Stairs is what they are. Flights are like those contrivances they make up in airports and associate with certain airplanes theoretically going to certain cities. You know, like flight sixty-nine now leaving for Beaver city. Would you like some TWA Milk or some TWA Coffee, or perhaps some TWA Tea?
Continuing onward, I go another several yards, turn some more corners and go down another flight (Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk, NC this time). I'm in a maze of dark passages, all alike, twisting and turning, and each with its own sign, "You are here." "Careful," I say to myself, "You might get eaten by a grue." Unfortunately I don't really think I'm listening to myself. If I was, that would be the second sign of insanity. "You are here" being the first. Or perhaps talking to myself was the first. At any rate, the interest seemed to be waning.
I picked one of the identical twisty passages and started down it. I looked down. There were several letters lying on the ground. I picked up one -- an "I." Suddenly, in the air in front of me some writing appeared. It said, "You have a lantern, a piece of rope, and a gold brick." I snorted. "That's preposterous!" I knew I didn't have. . . then I felt something very heavy in my back pocket. I pulled it out. It was a gold brick. "Kewl!" sez I. I stuck it back in my pocket.
Picking up another letter, this time an "L," the text in the air returned. This time it said, "You are in a dark passage. You might get eaten by a grue." I heard something growl. "Dang, I wish I had some light. . ." I felt something in my hand. It felt like a flashlight. I flicked the switch. "Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz." Nope, that's not a flashlight. I dropped the object. Searching my pockets I found the flashlight. Wonder why the text didn't mention the other item? The text appeared again, "Hey what do you want. This is a G-rated game." I picked up another letter, this one a "W." More text.
"You are going west. You are in a maze of twisty passages, all alike. Your flashlight batteries are getting weak." A momentary panic seized me. What will happen if I can't get out of here before the batteries go dead? Will a grue eat me? I have to find a way out of here (said the butler to the bee). I kept hearing strains of music off in the distance. It sounds like Frank Zappa, "Willie, something or other." I hurry off in the direction of the music.
The light is getting dimmer. I stumble over something in the twisty passage. I reach down and pick it up. The text says, "You have a flashlight, a piece of rope, a gold bar, and a torch." I muse out loud, "I wonder if I have any mactches?" The text returns. "You're carrying too much. You can't pick up the matches." I fumbled around and found the piece of rope in my back pocket opposite the one with the gold brick. I dropped it. The text came back. ", "You have a flashlight, a gold bar, and a torch. You are carrying too much to pick up the matches." "Now wait a minute!" I yelled. "That rope weighs more than any matches you can come up with."
The text said, "What do you want? I'm just a game." The lamp was fading. I laid down the flashlight.
"You're alone in a maze of dark twisty passages, all alike. You better find some light quick. You might get eaten by a grue." I cursed. I tried to pick up the matches. The text said, "You're carrying too much to pick up the matches. I cursed again. The text turned blue. "Such language out of a supposed gentleman!" I fished the gold out of my pocket and lay it on the ground. I groped around in the dark trying to find the matches. I felt the air move. Someone, or something was in the passage with me. Desperately, I raked my hand across the dirt trying to find the matches. There! There they were. I opened the book of matches and pulled one out. I drug it across the bottom of the book, it sparked and fizzled. Dark! I tore off another, tried to light it. Dark! More movement. . .
Fear was overwhelming me. I tried a third match. It lit. I fired up the torch. Standing in front of me was a gorgeous woman, totally nude. "Who are you?" I asked. She replied, "I'm Sue, the grue.