Biography

Headline Image: Rochester Births | Dewey Defeats Marciano

In the beginning it was pale. It wore a pale green smoking jacket on top of a regular pair of brown knickers, except for how expressively pale they were.

There was rising action during the town's bicentennial party down by the band shell. The townsfolk mingled, although a common foundation of interest presently escaped them.

A certain man declared,

"If I were imprisoned by the occasional (representing those particular situations which often solidify between short intervals) pterodactyl-like collisions and banter in spirit of the social agenda, I may as well be a permanent fixture alongside progress and treason in the bronze category of success, and be provided a predictable parabolic curve when thrown screaming toward the disorders of wisdom."

At that moment the wind carried a message to the big tower clock which stated,

"I'm going to tip you over."

The wind came forth with its promise in a community so hung-up on frighteningly well established illusions, that when their sense of time collapsed before their eyes, they declared the Universe as stopped.

(This paragraph creates the cameo appearance of Harpo Marx.)

It eventually became required to pay homage to the crumbled phallus of time during sunset to symbolize the obvious. Amazingly, it would take a full two hundred and six years before anyone was born genius enough to question his community's wacky reaction to a fallen clock.

Human beings were noise seated next to him.

"Jesus,"

he declared,

"is popular for a man who's never been on the football team."

He continued,

"There's a lot to look at, but mostly because it's in the way. Culture's foot is too small to have any impact on being shoved into its fat mouth."

The townsfolk were promised moon cars and an easy life. Instead they got some powdered drink mix and another mattress they couldn't seem to get out of.

(This paragraph creates the cameo appearance of Gene Wilder playing Harpo Marx.)

There were eighty five thousand regular bastards trying to make money in the city. Sixteen of them knew why. The rest could only assume satisfaction.

Some should've grown full beards and proceeded to hide them in space helmets. [Something else about society with a clever metaphor inspired by television.]

It was even chaos which had its pattern, like his shirt, only less unbuttoned because it was still cold in that way they decided to gracefully mention their unpleasant visit. He took it to heart, then told them it will be a greater world when the people stop expecting so much.

"I mean,"

he stated,

"if you can imagine fifteen living things standing in some very wide field; wide enough to where you can't even see the fence; at least one of them will eventually harness the ability to prove itself as God to the other fourteen given the odds, yes?"

"Too often,"

he stated,

"are we born well after the great discoveries. There are more and more people, but hardly anything left to invent for them. It's amazing how somebody out there thinks Walter Cronkite is a normal thing."

"The kids,"

he stated,

"in their boots and blindfolds play house, because they know that when they want to, they can always come home."

In the end Eric Idle was invited who came dressed as, but was not playing, Harpo Marx.