continued…

After everything that I saw and heard I got back to wondering how and why things had gotten so unbelievably screwy in Sleepytown. My plan was visit the one place I thought that might be able to help. After all, philosophy is the study of life, right?

Most of the people I spoke with were very excited about my search for the Sleepytown University House of Philosophy. No one was exactly sure where it was located. Nor were they interested in going with me to attempt to find it. When I told passersby that I was looking for it they congratulated me. Some said that higher education was a fine thing indeed and they were glad that such a bright young man was interested in such things. Unfortunately, when I asked if they could help me find it or take me there their interest was reduced dramatically. Most were vague and tried to change the subject. One man pulled a fish out of his back pocket and proceeded to explain to me the finer points of stock car racing. Some were even outright hostile about me asking. They seemed to think that I was somehow insulting them.

“Don’t you come around here simply to talk condescending to me about such superstitious mumbo-jumbo,” one finely dressed lady said as she made some sort of strange gesture with her left hand and right leg and walked off with a large huff. I think the huff was even offended because it turned back for a moment and glared pointedly at me.

I finally got someone to show me the way through the strangely tangled cobweb of streets in the university section. It was an old woman I hadn’t met before. She drew me a rough map on a piece of cloth torn from the hem of her dress. In the moonlight I could just make out the charcoal markings of the primitive looking map. It was getting late and I was wondering if I would have time to get there before I had to leave Sleepytown for the night. The streets were completely empty in this section of town and I started to think I was hopelessly lost. When I finally thought I would never find it or that I had seriously misunderstood the markings on the map I heard the muffled sound of voices and the shuffling of papers.

I ran in the direction of the sound.

As I rounded a corner I saw three men in fuzzy gray robes entering a doorway. They were chatting and each was carrying something: one, a pile of books, another, a pile of papers, the third a box filled with pencils and pens.

I felt relieved and slightly justified that I had made this attempt. As I walked towards the door the tension in my mind and stomach started to melt away. An ember of hope replaced it.

I opened the door to the building and entered. It was one huge room with a domed ceiling. There were at least fifty men seated at small, ornately carved wooden tables all about the room. Each had piles of books and papers on the tables and floor. There were writing utensils scattered on the tables among the books and papers. They were all busy alternately reading from the books and writing on the papers. Everyone present was dressed like the men I saw entering: big gray fuzzy robes and socks that were also gray but not quite the same shade as the robes. I also noticed that everyone’s socks had odd bulges.

I approached the closest of the men and said, “Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for the House Of Philosophy. Is this it?” It was fairly obvious that it had to be, but I wanted to make sure.

He looked up at me, frowned and replied, “That is, it would seem to one or many of a statistical average drawn from some non-unilaterally allied partial grouping of…”

He got no further because someone had sounded a bell and that was apparently a signal that some proceedings were soon to begin. There happened to be one unoccupied chair near by, so I sat and waited. The chair was very old and rickety. I looked around and noticed that all the chairs and tables were also in a bad state of disrepair. They looked as if they were of good quality when they were new but that must have been several thousand years ago. The beginning of the answer I received coupled with the condition of the furnishings quickly assimilated into an uneasy feeling that started replacing that little flash of hope I had so recently acquired.

One man stood and said, “Speakers assembled…First speaker…” he motioned toward the other side of the room.