With Uncle Emanuel positioned at the middle of a fishing boat, his nephew John-Boy sat at one side of him and, in turn, John-Boy’s best friend Jim-Bob at the other. John-Boy, his frizzy hair fitted up inside a top-hat, was fishing at the front of the boat with a cane-pole. Both his hat and fishing pole were handed down to him customarily so from distant ancestors through a grandfather lovingly called ‘Gramps’ Watkins. Sitting behind Emanuel at the rear of the boat was Jim-Bob in order to steer its motor. He being forty-two years old as well, the white fellow had decided to decline participating in the conversation opting instead to recline back lazily with his feet propped up.
"Anyhows . . .zzz." he mumbled into oblivion before falling fast asleep beneath a straw-hat that he had titled down over his face to keep the sun’s rays out.
The three of them had decided upon spending a day together upon the mighty Trinity River. The spot where they were fished was a portion of the river that flowed through a wilderness called the Great Urban Forest. In turn, it was located within the thickest of the thicket in Deep South Dallas. Uncle Emanuel often manages to get himself sandwiched between this lovable pair. Indeed, their two heads when put together never quite make up the totality of a complete brain. Because of the many man-eating catfish prowling beneath the surface of the water, diving into the depths below didn't offer Emanuel a means of escape.
"Please Uncle Emanuel!" his nephew pleaded loudly with him. "I'd very much appreciate it hearing you speak mo' about your theory called 'Sensory Devolution!!'"
Caused by John-Boy's outburst, a deep sleeping Jim-Bob awoke startled and shouted, "'Snort' ANYHOWS!"
"For Pete's sake, son!" Uncle Emanuel tried reasoning with his nephew. "You know how my theories can get so complicated at times that they can even escalate beyond my own understanding!"
After reaching one of his huge anomalies into the bait bucket to grab a fistful of crickets to snack upon, John-Boy insisted further, "Munch, munch, munch . . .. Hey, perhaps in learning what is deadly serious about this world, I could mo' bettah' know things are funny?"
With eyes rolling, Uncle Emanuel sighed and relented, "Well, in that case . . .."
"Great! Once upon a time . . . " John-Boy cheered and clapped his hands. He then sat still in anticipation of the telling of a story. He had learned to control himself in such a fashion just recently by twiddling his thumbs. This was a method taught to him by his good mamma in order to better behave in church.
In spite of his naivety about science, John-Boy did have a point. Seems that he had been robbed at birth from ever possessing the ability of knowing when something was truly funny. Oddly, having never been able to perceive what was comedy, he never seemed to get tired of discussing even the most boring of stuff.
After clearing his throat, Uncle Emanuel began lecturing his nephew utilizing complex compound sentences as he did so incorporating semicolons for style, "On one hand, the universe exists wholly apart from God; and, meanwhile, on the other, God Himself exists beyond even this infinity as an unapproachable Organ.
“Organ?” John-Boy inquired.
“Yes John-Boy,” Uncle Emanuel said clarifying, “He exists as a surrounding Heart. Within the immense empowerment of this immense heart, there also exists a single sense organ. Being single, so it is able to perceive only a single color about itself.
Jim-Bob, as he had to sit up to spit out some tobacco anyway, thought it a good time to butt in, "'Spit.' Anyhows . . ., hey-there Uncle Emanuel!"
"Yes, Jim-Bob? the great black sage twisted around to address what he thought was going to be a question.
"Ever hear the one about that-there hairy-frog I used to keep as a pet back when jest' a wee little feller'?"
As if on cue, a large cat-fish jumped clean out from the river to fall back into it smacking, splashing, and drenching onto the three with water.
"Hey!" and "Anyhows!" both of the forty-two year old best friends shouted in unison cursing at the catfish.
"Hee hee!" Uncle Emanuel endured the cold surprise of the splashing water in order to chuckle at the timing of the happening. He then felt invigorated to add insult to injury. "Whew! Oh boy, would I ever love to hear about that-there hairy frog joke of yours, Jim-Bob. Shoot, I bet I've laughed a hundred times at that joke, it gets better every time you say it, and would so love to laugh at it yet again. Just seems the catfish swimming below aren't too interested."
"What sense organ would that be Uncle Emanuel?" John-Boy inquired managing to maintain focus on the discussion at hand.
"Yes, John-Boy, " Uncle Emanuel continued on with his lecturing twisting around to address John-Boy after refocusing on the topic himself, "I am speaking of the infinite universe in this case. On one hand, what surrounds us is a Heart which is located an unapproachable distance away; meanwhile, on the other hand, the infinite universe itself exists as a lone sense organ."
"What is this thing dat’ you keep calling infinity, Uncle Emauel?" John-Boy asked puzzled while scratching his head.
"Imagine that you are now traveling out in deep space in a rocket ship, John-Boy," Uncle Emanuel said hypothesizing, "Okay, one day you arrive at a wall. After stopping, eating a peanut butter sandwich, and drinking some Kool-aid, you wonder to yourself, “What is on the other side?“
After thinking long and hard on the question, John-Boy replied, "Nothing would be on the other side of that-there wall, Uncle Emanuel."
"Uh, okay . . .," Uncle Emanuel replied shaking his head at the unexpected answer and then having to close his eyes to think about what to say next. Becoming enlightened suddenly, he continued on with his dissertation, "Okay, let's venture away from the topic for a bit in order to consider the theory deeper. Imagine, if you will, a race of human beings evolving out from the thickest of jungles. Such a wilderness would be so dense, in fact, that one would only be able to perceive evidence of a sky above on occasion. As the color green of the jungle would be so dominant, the lesser appearance of the other colors of brown, red, black and so on wouldn’t be considered mutually exclusive of that color, but mere shades of it. The few times that the sky above would peak its light through into the forest would lead the trapped victims to assume the same about the color blue as well. One day, the long journey comes to abrupt end leading the trapped victims to a clearing where they are able to behold a magnificent blue sky opening above them. Up in that blue sky also and seeming to float, they perceive fluffy, whitish, and grayish colored clouds. Again, because of their prior experience in the jungle, these colors are assumed to be shades of green as well.
"Anyhows!" Jim-Bob inquired from the back of the boat in puzzled fashion before adding, "What the dickens, you say?"
"I am arguing here against the present accepted dichotomy of the extreme and opposite colors of black and white, Jim-Bob,” Uncle Emanuel said arguing after twisting around to respond to him. "Such colors are assumed to be mutually exclusive of the other. However, if the universe exists as a lone sense organ, then there must also exist only a single color for it to perceive. In such a case, the sense organ would be blind to that single color. In order for the organ to be able to perceive anything, certain amounts of shadows would need to be caste in the way of the light. I am speaking about a need to create eyes within eyes or, better yet, receptors within receptors. In order to achieve this feat, sensory devolution takes place.
"Anyhows . . ., gee, lots of eyes within eyes, you say?" Jim-Bob inquired with a puzzled look after which he took off his hat (something that he rarely ever did outdoors). He then stood up so that he might sit back down again to do some serious thinking about what in the hell he had just heard. All this nervous action by Jim-Bob left his pale face, freckles, and red hair exposed to very much laughter. Well, John-Boy could just laugh along in a monotone with his Uncle Emanuel at first not knowing if the situation was really funny.
“Hee-hee!” Uncle Emanuel laughed out loud.
“Yes, hee-hee also!” John-Boy feigned much laughter after watching his uncle carefully for cues to respond in like manner.
"What's are these-here receptors yo' just mentioned, Uncle Emanuel?" John-Boy asked reverting back to speaking in his customary old colored man speak.
"And that-there you just asked is the thousand dollar question, John-Boy! Hee-hee!!" Uncle Emanuel responded back at him in the same dialect adding in some customary jive laughter afterwards. You know the lingo I am referring to here. They both started laughing like those old colored geezers will tend to do while sitting out in their front yards both slapping dominoes and drinking malt liquor. After settling down a bit, Uncle Emanuel further commented, "Imagine that you wanted to create a fish."
"Anyhows . . ., uh, create a fish, you say?" A pondering Jim-Bob mused while scratching his head after which he did some chuckling himself. "Hee-hee!"
"Yes, Jim-Bob!" Uncle Emanuel responded to Jim-Bob after twisting around again to respond to him.
Let's say that for the first model of the fish you make, you decide to take a million and squeeze them all together. Finally, after shaping something into a form that looks similar to a fish, you place all those eyes into salt water. Studying this experiment, you find that instead of swimming around, it dissolves quickly into blindness."
Pausing, Uncle Emanuel came to the realization that Jim-Bob, instead of listening, had fallen fast asleep, "zzz . . .."
Twisting around quickly to continue explaining his point to John-Boy, Uncle Emanuel further expounded, "So, John-Boy, you do understand the point, don't you? The real solution to creating a fish would be to devolve its many eyes into scales. In this way, the vision of the fish would be protected from the salt."
"You did jest' mention how dem' colors of black and white are wrong opposites, Uncle Emanuel? Isn’t the color blue the opposite of red, jest‘ let’s say fer' instance," John-Boy commented demonstrating that he had fallen way behind in the conversation. Still, he was at least attempting to look way far off intelligent and serious like. "Or the color yellow versus brown, let's say in another case. Uh, so that would leave the color green versus what then? Hmmm . . ..? You know, Uncle Emanuel, I've often wondered why kids today have to take drugs in order to see colors? Hell, why don't they jest' open their eyes?"
Again, as if on cue, the catfish jumped clean out from the river falling back within it smacking, splashing, and drenching the three of them.
"Hey!" and "Anyhows!" the two best friends both shouted in unison again cursing at the catfish.
"Hee hee!" Uncle Emanuel once again chuckled at the timing of the circumstance. "In the future, John-Boy, perhaps it would be best for you to stay on topic?"
“Is you ah’ claiming that ‘eyes’ are the ‘source of all things’ Uncle Emanuel?” John-Boy asked of his uncle in quite the pre-Socratic fashion.
“Source of all things?” Uncle Emanuel repeated his nephew's question being rather surprised by it. “What did you just ask me again?”
“Your supposition!” John-Boy asked him again. “What would be the catalyst leading you to state such a postulation?
“Uh?” Uncle Emanuel paused to recollect his thoughts, “I am speaking of a sense organ similar to a sensorium.”
“Anyhows,” Jim-Bob then interjected into the conversation from the back of the boat, “you must be referring to Sir Isaac Newton then.”
After turning a pale white, Uncle Emanuel twisted around to address Jim-Bob, “Excuse me?”
“Oh dear!” John-Boy said shaking his head. “I was afraid this might happen. Looks like Uncle Emanuel’s mental medication has given up on him again.
Sure enough, Uncle Emanuel now appeared frozen, his eyes both wide open and staring straight ahead, and his mouth opened with slobber dribbling from it.
“Quick, help me place this white garment around him, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy asked his best friend.
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob asked of his best friend in turn, “what's this garment called that we are puttin’ on him?
“It’s called a straight-jacket, Jim-Bo,” John-Boy replied. “It is used for dressing up crazy people.”
“Anyhows, Jay-Bee,” Jim-Bob responded. “it looks a tab uncomfortable.”
“It ain’t supposed to be comfortable, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy responded. “But to keep crazy people from poking their eyes out.”
“Anyhows, Jay-Bee,“ Jim-Bob responded quite concerned, "shouldn’t we at least take in his fishing line?”
“Naw, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy responded back to his best friend, “we can use him for bait.”
Sure enough, looking around the water about the boat, about a dozen catfish had their heads peaking above the water in hopes that Uncle Emanuel would be discarded overboard.
“Pretty funny, huh Jim-Bo?” John-Boy asked Jim-Bob.
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob responded to John-Boy, “yea, this-here is kind of funny.”
After a bit, John-Boy inquired of his friend Jim-Bob further, “Where on earth did you get all that business about Sir Isaac Newton?”
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob responded, “jest’ lucky I guess.”
The three of them had decided upon spending a day together upon the mighty Trinity River. The spot where they were fished was a portion of the river that flowed through a wilderness called the Great Urban Forest. In turn, it was located within the thickest of the thicket in Deep South Dallas. Uncle Emanuel often manages to get himself sandwiched between this lovable pair. Indeed, their two heads when put together never quite make up the totality of a complete brain. Because of the many man-eating catfish prowling beneath the surface of the water, diving into the depths below didn't offer Emanuel a means of escape.
"Please Uncle Emanuel!" his nephew pleaded loudly with him. "I'd very much appreciate it hearing you speak mo' about your theory called 'Sensory Devolution!!'"
Caused by John-Boy's outburst, a deep sleeping Jim-Bob awoke startled and shouted, "'Snort' ANYHOWS!"
"For Pete's sake, son!" Uncle Emanuel tried reasoning with his nephew. "You know how my theories can get so complicated at times that they can even escalate beyond my own understanding!"
After reaching one of his huge anomalies into the bait bucket to grab a fistful of crickets to snack upon, John-Boy insisted further, "Munch, munch, munch . . .. Hey, perhaps in learning what is deadly serious about this world, I could mo' bettah' know things are funny?"
With eyes rolling, Uncle Emanuel sighed and relented, "Well, in that case . . .."
"Great! Once upon a time . . . " John-Boy cheered and clapped his hands. He then sat still in anticipation of the telling of a story. He had learned to control himself in such a fashion just recently by twiddling his thumbs. This was a method taught to him by his good mamma in order to better behave in church.
In spite of his naivety about science, John-Boy did have a point. Seems that he had been robbed at birth from ever possessing the ability of knowing when something was truly funny. Oddly, having never been able to perceive what was comedy, he never seemed to get tired of discussing even the most boring of stuff.
After clearing his throat, Uncle Emanuel began lecturing his nephew utilizing complex compound sentences as he did so incorporating semicolons for style, "On one hand, the universe exists wholly apart from God; and, meanwhile, on the other, God Himself exists beyond even this infinity as an unapproachable Organ.
“Organ?” John-Boy inquired.
“Yes John-Boy,” Uncle Emanuel said clarifying, “He exists as a surrounding Heart. Within the immense empowerment of this immense heart, there also exists a single sense organ. Being single, so it is able to perceive only a single color about itself.
Jim-Bob, as he had to sit up to spit out some tobacco anyway, thought it a good time to butt in, "'Spit.' Anyhows . . ., hey-there Uncle Emanuel!"
"Yes, Jim-Bob? the great black sage twisted around to address what he thought was going to be a question.
"Ever hear the one about that-there hairy-frog I used to keep as a pet back when jest' a wee little feller'?"
As if on cue, a large cat-fish jumped clean out from the river to fall back into it smacking, splashing, and drenching onto the three with water.
"Hey!" and "Anyhows!" both of the forty-two year old best friends shouted in unison cursing at the catfish.
"Hee hee!" Uncle Emanuel endured the cold surprise of the splashing water in order to chuckle at the timing of the happening. He then felt invigorated to add insult to injury. "Whew! Oh boy, would I ever love to hear about that-there hairy frog joke of yours, Jim-Bob. Shoot, I bet I've laughed a hundred times at that joke, it gets better every time you say it, and would so love to laugh at it yet again. Just seems the catfish swimming below aren't too interested."
"What sense organ would that be Uncle Emanuel?" John-Boy inquired managing to maintain focus on the discussion at hand.
"Yes, John-Boy, " Uncle Emanuel continued on with his lecturing twisting around to address John-Boy after refocusing on the topic himself, "I am speaking of the infinite universe in this case. On one hand, what surrounds us is a Heart which is located an unapproachable distance away; meanwhile, on the other hand, the infinite universe itself exists as a lone sense organ."
"What is this thing dat’ you keep calling infinity, Uncle Emauel?" John-Boy asked puzzled while scratching his head.
"Imagine that you are now traveling out in deep space in a rocket ship, John-Boy," Uncle Emanuel said hypothesizing, "Okay, one day you arrive at a wall. After stopping, eating a peanut butter sandwich, and drinking some Kool-aid, you wonder to yourself, “What is on the other side?“
After thinking long and hard on the question, John-Boy replied, "Nothing would be on the other side of that-there wall, Uncle Emanuel."
"Uh, okay . . .," Uncle Emanuel replied shaking his head at the unexpected answer and then having to close his eyes to think about what to say next. Becoming enlightened suddenly, he continued on with his dissertation, "Okay, let's venture away from the topic for a bit in order to consider the theory deeper. Imagine, if you will, a race of human beings evolving out from the thickest of jungles. Such a wilderness would be so dense, in fact, that one would only be able to perceive evidence of a sky above on occasion. As the color green of the jungle would be so dominant, the lesser appearance of the other colors of brown, red, black and so on wouldn’t be considered mutually exclusive of that color, but mere shades of it. The few times that the sky above would peak its light through into the forest would lead the trapped victims to assume the same about the color blue as well. One day, the long journey comes to abrupt end leading the trapped victims to a clearing where they are able to behold a magnificent blue sky opening above them. Up in that blue sky also and seeming to float, they perceive fluffy, whitish, and grayish colored clouds. Again, because of their prior experience in the jungle, these colors are assumed to be shades of green as well.
"Anyhows!" Jim-Bob inquired from the back of the boat in puzzled fashion before adding, "What the dickens, you say?"
"I am arguing here against the present accepted dichotomy of the extreme and opposite colors of black and white, Jim-Bob,” Uncle Emanuel said arguing after twisting around to respond to him. "Such colors are assumed to be mutually exclusive of the other. However, if the universe exists as a lone sense organ, then there must also exist only a single color for it to perceive. In such a case, the sense organ would be blind to that single color. In order for the organ to be able to perceive anything, certain amounts of shadows would need to be caste in the way of the light. I am speaking about a need to create eyes within eyes or, better yet, receptors within receptors. In order to achieve this feat, sensory devolution takes place.
"Anyhows . . ., gee, lots of eyes within eyes, you say?" Jim-Bob inquired with a puzzled look after which he took off his hat (something that he rarely ever did outdoors). He then stood up so that he might sit back down again to do some serious thinking about what in the hell he had just heard. All this nervous action by Jim-Bob left his pale face, freckles, and red hair exposed to very much laughter. Well, John-Boy could just laugh along in a monotone with his Uncle Emanuel at first not knowing if the situation was really funny.
“Hee-hee!” Uncle Emanuel laughed out loud.
“Yes, hee-hee also!” John-Boy feigned much laughter after watching his uncle carefully for cues to respond in like manner.
"What's are these-here receptors yo' just mentioned, Uncle Emanuel?" John-Boy asked reverting back to speaking in his customary old colored man speak.
"And that-there you just asked is the thousand dollar question, John-Boy! Hee-hee!!" Uncle Emanuel responded back at him in the same dialect adding in some customary jive laughter afterwards. You know the lingo I am referring to here. They both started laughing like those old colored geezers will tend to do while sitting out in their front yards both slapping dominoes and drinking malt liquor. After settling down a bit, Uncle Emanuel further commented, "Imagine that you wanted to create a fish."
"Anyhows . . ., uh, create a fish, you say?" A pondering Jim-Bob mused while scratching his head after which he did some chuckling himself. "Hee-hee!"
"Yes, Jim-Bob!" Uncle Emanuel responded to Jim-Bob after twisting around again to respond to him.
Let's say that for the first model of the fish you make, you decide to take a million and squeeze them all together. Finally, after shaping something into a form that looks similar to a fish, you place all those eyes into salt water. Studying this experiment, you find that instead of swimming around, it dissolves quickly into blindness."
Pausing, Uncle Emanuel came to the realization that Jim-Bob, instead of listening, had fallen fast asleep, "zzz . . .."
Twisting around quickly to continue explaining his point to John-Boy, Uncle Emanuel further expounded, "So, John-Boy, you do understand the point, don't you? The real solution to creating a fish would be to devolve its many eyes into scales. In this way, the vision of the fish would be protected from the salt."
"You did jest' mention how dem' colors of black and white are wrong opposites, Uncle Emanuel? Isn’t the color blue the opposite of red, jest‘ let’s say fer' instance," John-Boy commented demonstrating that he had fallen way behind in the conversation. Still, he was at least attempting to look way far off intelligent and serious like. "Or the color yellow versus brown, let's say in another case. Uh, so that would leave the color green versus what then? Hmmm . . ..? You know, Uncle Emanuel, I've often wondered why kids today have to take drugs in order to see colors? Hell, why don't they jest' open their eyes?"
Again, as if on cue, the catfish jumped clean out from the river falling back within it smacking, splashing, and drenching the three of them.
"Hey!" and "Anyhows!" the two best friends both shouted in unison again cursing at the catfish.
"Hee hee!" Uncle Emanuel once again chuckled at the timing of the circumstance. "In the future, John-Boy, perhaps it would be best for you to stay on topic?"
“Is you ah’ claiming that ‘eyes’ are the ‘source of all things’ Uncle Emanuel?” John-Boy asked of his uncle in quite the pre-Socratic fashion.
“Source of all things?” Uncle Emanuel repeated his nephew's question being rather surprised by it. “What did you just ask me again?”
“Your supposition!” John-Boy asked him again. “What would be the catalyst leading you to state such a postulation?
“Uh?” Uncle Emanuel paused to recollect his thoughts, “I am speaking of a sense organ similar to a sensorium.”
“Anyhows,” Jim-Bob then interjected into the conversation from the back of the boat, “you must be referring to Sir Isaac Newton then.”
After turning a pale white, Uncle Emanuel twisted around to address Jim-Bob, “Excuse me?”
“Oh dear!” John-Boy said shaking his head. “I was afraid this might happen. Looks like Uncle Emanuel’s mental medication has given up on him again.
Sure enough, Uncle Emanuel now appeared frozen, his eyes both wide open and staring straight ahead, and his mouth opened with slobber dribbling from it.
“Quick, help me place this white garment around him, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy asked his best friend.
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob asked of his best friend in turn, “what's this garment called that we are puttin’ on him?
“It’s called a straight-jacket, Jim-Bo,” John-Boy replied. “It is used for dressing up crazy people.”
“Anyhows, Jay-Bee,” Jim-Bob responded. “it looks a tab uncomfortable.”
“It ain’t supposed to be comfortable, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy responded. “But to keep crazy people from poking their eyes out.”
“Anyhows, Jay-Bee,“ Jim-Bob responded quite concerned, "shouldn’t we at least take in his fishing line?”
“Naw, Jim-Bo!” John-Boy responded back to his best friend, “we can use him for bait.”
Sure enough, looking around the water about the boat, about a dozen catfish had their heads peaking above the water in hopes that Uncle Emanuel would be discarded overboard.
“Pretty funny, huh Jim-Bo?” John-Boy asked Jim-Bob.
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob responded to John-Boy, “yea, this-here is kind of funny.”
After a bit, John-Boy inquired of his friend Jim-Bob further, “Where on earth did you get all that business about Sir Isaac Newton?”
“Anyhows . . .,” Jim-Bob responded, “jest’ lucky I guess.”
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