We humans like round numbers. They help us to make order in an essentially chaotic universe. Breaking the four minute mile, breaking mach 1 and then mach 2, batting .400 and so on: all of these serve as testaments to our need to impose an order whose meaning is as arbitrary as the will of those who imposed it. The millennium provided fodder for this almost insatiable craving for round numbers. Anybody that can count understands that a decade consists of all numbers from 1-10; the next decade follows as 11-20, 21-30 and so forth. Apparently we could not stomach the idea of celebrating the new era with an odd number. The 20th century ended on December 31, 2000. The 21st century, along with the second millennium began on January 1, 2001. But what does it really matter: it is an arbitrary measure. Its meaning is not intrinsic to the measure, but to the people whose needs the measure serves.
Why this prolegomena to today’s posting? Because it is the end of the first century of The Dancing Fool. Strictly speaking, this is not the hundredth posting. The first posting contains two or three postings. There was a post that I deleted as it was almost a verbatim transcript of a communication between MM and me. But it is the 100th page of my meanderings.
Not counting today’s words (which total 678), I’ve posted 50,560 words, most of which were mine. Those that were not were original to me (generally poetry, there was one longish article that I posted regarding the illegal war in Iraq, and there was the Declaration of Independence, which I did not write) I made efforts to credit. But still, over 50k is one helluva lot of verbiage. Despite all of these words a couple of questions beg for answers...
Why do I use the moniker I do? Those that know me know how much I hate to dance. It is not because I can get jiggy, shakin’ my freak thaing. Frankly, at my age, I am not certain that I even want to get jiggy. The name was intended as a metaphor for how I live my life. I’ve always said that I don’t understand life, but stand in bemused amazement of the thing. I have also always been the fool. The court jester was the only one that would dare to tell the king the truth. The irony of the foolish jest was that he was the wisest in the court; his counsels often hidden deep in the flesh of the clown. The original Dancing Fool was a page on my family webpage that used to think out loud, to tell my friends my thoughts, to do what this webpage has become.
The Dancing Fool began as probably the third or fourth web diary that I have kept. I have always journalled. It became more difficult as my hands have become more affected by arthritis and it became difficult to hold a pen and write for extended periods of time. The various diaries have always been anonymous, but open to the public to read. I was amazed by the comments that have been generated. People do read these things. The comments made by strangers have often been the most insightful as they offer unvarnished and objective responses to what I have written. Some have been the old-school counseling techniques: “Quit whining, crybaby…” Most have been helpful. One person, about four years ago simply wrote that I was not alone. That meant the most to me at a time when I felt like I was loosing everything, including my connection to humanity.
The Dancing Fool began as a way to chronicle my new years’ resolutions (which I will revisit next week) but has become my sounding board, my way to work out my thoughts, my way to say my piece, my way to say I am because I said…
Who will listen to a fool… hey, you’re reading it! And thank you most graciously for taking the time to do so!!!!
- tdf
