Make ‘Em Laugh

I know of two writers, two great writers I adore:

The first is the wise, the recluse pretending to be locked-up in his glass tower, where he peers with his mighty telescope across the land. His bibliotheque is full of parchments and quills and Aristotle and Kant and himself of course because he sees himself standing toe-to-heavenly-toe against the giant anals of history.

The latter is the clown-prince, who poses head-down at the town plaza, clad in the noble outfit of the jester. He pulls dogs from the clouds and paints daffodils on caravans, all the while juggling at his feet the three-pronged rules he has kept all his life: (1) the truth, (2) the wit, (3) the dance.

Neither is friends with either, both hate both. Each sees each other as a joke, a travesty, a mocking monument against the venerable craft; the twisted fabrics of the old losing the young and the young forgetting the fool.

But the biggest puzzle I have is wondering if the old man knew that if he left his tower, and if the clown knew that if he jumped to his feet, that both great writers are mirrors of each other, in complimentary hues and transversing sounds and the wondrous falling stars that shake the very soil we lie down.

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This is the 100 Songs Project, a 100-day writing challenge based on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Songs. Every day, I write a short poem, prose piece, or play based on, reacting to, rejecting, accepting, or doing something related to one of the songs in the top 100 list.

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