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Your Eminence
This week's episode is a short thing.
A thing in the conventional use of the word, which is to say, I haven't figured out what it is, or what it is going to be, as of yet.
Consider Schröat;edinger's cat. Or some suitable experiment. Right. Got it? Great. Well, it's a bit like that. And this particular identifier, that 'that', to do Bertrand Russell proud, means whichever scenario as an alternate or amalgam of Schröat;edinger's cat you may have just had in your head. Even if it was way off, and your particular experiment proved, beyond the shadow of a doubt the divinity of your ficus plant whom you've named Bill after long evenings of pointless debates with him as to why he shouldn't like the name 'Spike'. No matter. It can probably be fit in somewhere and accounted for.
Not particularly excited yet? No, I'd guessed not.
The bull fight ended tragically for all but three of the finalists standing. Pepe the bull, who learned there was such a thing as bull heaven. It was peopled with bulls, many many bulls, and there was some fat guy on the corner selling ice cream. A piece of paper that held the number of initiates into the Third Inner Circle of the Bavarian Illuminati. A typo in the third line would have caused this paper, had it been picked up, international acclaim and fame as the sum of it's letters plus the fourth letter of every other line formed the name of God, which, when spoken, would have undone Creation. This would have been a terribly embarrassing Fate for the piece of paper, who only wanted to get on with things as it was, a former piece of a tree and used to the quiet life in the centre of section of pavement in the Park Slope neighbourhood of Brooklyn. Even moreso had the inevitable happened and, in front of media and the whole lot, one of the scientists or religious zealots who were bound to have found him eventually actually read from the piece of paper and brought about the end of the world. The most embarrassing thing of all would have been the slow realisation amongst the crowd that the world, instead of ending in a hail of serpents and fire and violence was to end in a very strong gust of wind that smelled strangely of cotton candy. The piece of paper won by virtue of being ground into the dirt floor of the bull ring, destined to become, by a strange twist of events, petrol in 3.5 million years. Jimmy the Bookie, who made £1.5 million on the day's events. He retired and moved to Florida. He was eaten in his home by lizards.
disclaimer:
See?
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Yer Weekly Horoscopes.