Precipice

Hey, guess what? The world is not perfect! I think I missed perfection by the length of a cornfield, you? I knew I wasn’t perfect when I found I could not make head nor tails of the word: Perfect. Maybe it’s just me but can you conceive of anything whatsoever that IS perfect? Upon what basis do you know a thing is perfect? Perfect is as perfect does so I guess that means God. Again, it sure as heck ain’t me and all I have to do to know is to look at anything I did last hour. Minutiae can seem perfect, like stacking two pennies edge to edge on top of each other, flat, mind you, and seeing if there is not some minute flaw in your arrangement. Go ahead, try. I’ll wait for you.

“We can’t all be perfect,” is what we say to some who think they are. Have them stack four pennies, edge to edge, flat, but watch ’em like a hawk! Even if they cheat they won’t arrive at perfection. Oh, they’ll tell you to look and tell them it isn’t a perfectly stacked four pennies. Get your microscope out and double check ’em; the pennies that is. It won’t do to check your buddy out with a microscope as they’re gonna tell somebody else that they think you’re a little weird.

Instead of all the gibberish above, have them stack 1000 pennies. If they are perfect it’ll be no sweat. You’re still gonna need that microscope though and if it is perfect get them to invest all your money, $12.54 if you’re me, in stocks. You can’t lose!

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