Showing posts with label A. Square. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A. Square. Show all posts

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Stauskas: A Romance of Many Dimensions

Chapter 16. How the Stranger Vainly Endeavoured to Reveal to Me in Words the Mysteries of Spaceland

From dreams I proceed to facts.

It was the last day of the first month of the 2013th year of our era. The patterning of the rain had long ago announced nightfall; and I was sitting in the company of my wife, musing on the events of the past and the prospects of the coming months, the coming year, the coming Tournament.

Straightway I became conscious of a Presence in the arena, and a chilling breath thrilled through my very being. Looking around in every direction I could see nothing; yet still I FELT a Presence, and shivered as the cold whisper came again. I started up. There was nothing; and I resumed my seat, again exclaiming, "The boy is a fool, I say; a Two-Point Shot can have no meaning in Basketball." At once there came a distinctly audible reply, "The boy is not a fool; and a Two-Point Shot has an obvious Basketball meaning."

Desperate with fear, I rushed forward to the Stranger with an unceremonious, "You must permit me, Sir—" and felt him. There was not the trace of an angle, not the slightest roughness or inequality: never in my life had I met with a more perfect Circle. He remained motionless while I walked around him, beginning from his eye and returning to it again. Circular he was throughout, a perfectly satisfactory Circle; there could not be a doubt of it. Then followed a dialogue, which I will endeavour to set down as near as I can recollect it, omitting only some of my profuse apologies—for I was covered with shame and humiliation that I, a Square, should have been guilty of the impertinence of feeling a Circle. It was commenced by the Stranger with some impatience at the lengthiness of my introductory process.

Stranger: Have you felt me enough by this time? Are you not introduced to me yet?

I: Sir, excuse my awkwardness, which arises not from ignorance, but from a little surprise and nervousness. Would my Lordship deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who would gladly know whence his Visitor came?

Stranger: From Space, from Space, Sir: whence else?

I: Pardon me, my Lord, but is not your Lordship already in Space, your Lordship and his humble servant, even at this moment?

Stranger: Pooh! What do you know of Space? Define Space.

I: Space, my Lord, is the ability to make Three-Point Shots, infinitely prolonged.

Stranger: Exactly: you see you do not even know what Space is. You think it is of One Dimension only; but I have come to announce to you More: three-point shots, backdoor cuts, assists, and stout defense.
Via MGoBlog, Obviously.