Comment: I tried, jrd. What can I tell you. This place is a circus.

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I tried, jrd. What can I tell you. This place is a circus.

People were posting all these songs, and I said, "Hey, guys. Stop already! Hello. Haven't you noticed that someone is missing? And I don't mean johncarter444, who seems to be on vacation--- though from work or from us remains unclear. In any event, I'm talking about... someone... else? Like someone especially important to the jam session thread? C'mon guys. I mean it!" It's not that they hadn't realized. They knew.

Still, mountaincat never blinked. He just continued scaling the ladder up to the high wire.

Veritas Aequitas also neglected to acknowledge what I'd said as, wearing an emerald green velvet cloak ( and riding a white "unicorn" bareback, he finished a second gallop around the ring crying, Navegue para longe! Navegue para longe! ("Sail away! Sail away!" in Portugese) before disappearing through the red satin curtains.

DJG333, too, a clown, wearing harlequin pajamas and big duck slippers, ignored me, just continued to amble around aimlessly, wringing his hands, "Someone woke me up in 2008, and now I can't get back to sleep. Boo hoo. Oh, boo hoo. What will I do?"

I thought this one guy was finally going to respond. As soon as I reminded everyone that "someone" was missing, he stuck his head through the curtain. But he was there and then he was jon again, I mean gone again, just as quickly. Never saw him before, but someone later told me he was the head tech guy, probably just checking the lighting or sound system or something.

Anyway, finally, has - thank you, has! - did respond. Dressed in black and wearing a mask reminding me of Zorro, well, Zorro in Lederhosen, he didn't stop juggling the rainbow-colored balls, but with his face still turned upwards, he did slowly turn and walk towards me as he spoke. "Elinore," he calmly said. "She's just busy. She's juggling a lot of things herself. She'll catch up when she gets back."

I frowned. How he saw my expression, I don't know. But he added, "Really, m, don't worry. It's what she'd want us to do. Check for yourself. The Book of Rules. It's in my pocket. Reach in and get it if you don't believe me."

Reach into his pocket? I was just about to say, "Uh, no, has, um, that's okay, I believe you," when Veritas Aequitas came flying back in, a tack brush in his left hand, his right holding up his emerald green velvet cloak so it wouldn't drag across the sawdust-strewn floor, exposing a pair of Timberland workboots. In a high falsetto voice, he exclaimed, "The Book of Kells? Here?"

Still looking upwards, has threw back, "Not the Book of Kells, you clown! The Book of RULES!" The show of emotion broke his concentration. He missed one of the balls, which went bouncing across the floor. He nimbly caught the blue, violet, red, orange, yellow, and green balls, ran backwards and swiped up the escaped indigo, and stopped. He turned to face me.

"farge, I know you mean well. But the show must go on."

The next thing I knew, the impresario, the ringleader of this place with these big red initials M and N embroidered into his lapel, was calling out, "Ladies and... gentlemen... Boys... and girls... Children... of all ages..."

And the band began to play.

The Show Must Go On (Three Dog Night)

Up On the Tight Rope (Leon Russell)

Tears of A Clown (Smokey Robinson & The Miracles)

Circus (Tom Waits)

The Carnival Song (Tim Buckley)

For The Benefit of Mr. Kite (The Beatles)

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.
~ John Muir