Prior to my memory reboot, Terry Gilliam made a movie called TIME BANDITS. It had a Supreme Being, Ultimate Evil and little men moving unaffected through time stealing things here and there. Why do I find this story a metaphor for my life? Not that I see little men running around the periphery of my perception. But time as a scalable configuration, as if one could travel up and down the radio dial from BC to AD, this for some unknown reason strikes a nerve.
If there are parallel universes, multiple realities or dimensions, if time is simultaneous, if the universe operates 24/7 to the 9th power, should there be someone, something to manage the chaos? My dreams begin to feel less like my subconscious let loose and more like manipulation. By what? Not a clue. Truly, no idea. It is more of a feeling, probably a need to justify my drug free nocturnal fantasies.
Did the minions of some Supreme Power take Oliver and then spit me out? Proof? None. Merely the speculation of a frustrated curmudgeon whose search for answers leaves him checked at the border of awareness. So, I generate movie inspired fantasies. I do believe there is a lesson I could learn from Mr. Gilliam … humor. I have become such a dower old maid locked away in my office.
And if there be minions out there then I duly dub them Midians. Why? Midians welcomed the biblical Moses into their tents when he first fled Egypt. They were also his last conquest as the General of his people. Everything is cyclical. And so, if you are out there, manipulating time’s fabric, I can only hope the outcome less bloody should this Moses find his Midians.