Dots and Dichotomies
In this beginning, there was a dot. It was a dot in space. The dot could go anywhere, do anything...
This was much too much for the poor dot. It felt overwhelmed, and so, it didn't go anywhere, or do anything.
Then, out of nowhere, the dot had an epiphany. It didn't have to go anywhere, it just had to make a choice. Left or right? And so, the dot went left.
And the dot saw that this was good. A good choice.
(Don't tell Dot that he could go forward or backward, too. This would be much too much for poor Dot.) But Dot continued on the leftward path.
Years later, Dottington Dottsworth, upon reflecting, realized that this primary choice was so much more than just two things. It must have been at least, let's say, TEN things. And so he called it a "dichotomy", DI- being the base-10 prefix, from the Greek.
{No! The prefix for 10 is "deka" as in decimal or decade}
<yes or decadence. But he's right. A choice is always worth more than just the options given. Don't you believe that? How about we call it a "die-chotomy", as in the singular of "dice". A two-sided choice, well that's the flip of a coin. But a die can be cast in any number of sides imaginable!>
Eventually, old Dottington Dotsworth was overcome by a case of malignant Freihetaphasia - the existentially oppressive weight of too many choices. He died. But he was carried on by his descendant, Ball Dotsworth.
Ball knew that he had a world of options at his ballpoint, and he courageously faced the possibilities. He grew up as a flattened ball, kind of a patty if you will, and he would flip! Back and forth. The kids at the academy said that he tended to waffle. He didn't know what this meant. But he got good marks, and soon enough he became quite "well rounded", although dimples would show from time to time, cuz he still knew how to flip.
Out of school, Dotsworth became quite worldly. He traveled from town to countryside, and he found himself flipping and flopping in many a curious town square. He spent a little time in Flatland, but after not too long he thought "what's the point".
What's the point? No one understand me here. One minute they're meeting me at my surface... they don't even know the meaning of the word "diemension" - they poke at me and wonder which direction I'm going to go... and then they move right past me as if that's all I've got. I could roll right over them! But I have more sense than to go and do that.
I guess there's a bit of an old world charm. Flatland... The Triangles are cute. It kind of tickles me to see the equilaterals rotate.
{It tickles me that Ball thinks he's really round. I mean he's many-sided, but those dimples are clearly facets. From when he used to waffle? If you look at it, when that patty flips he's just trying to choose "left or right" like his pops used to do}
Ball traveled the many realms of Optia. He was always looking for something, although he didn't rightly know what. He longed for a simpler time when he could go left and right, forward or backward; up and down, back and forth... he used to do that all day, playing and practicing and working on satisfying combinations. Up, down, up, down... left, right, left, right... back back and forward and forth. He wore down his edges and developed some grooves, and sooner or later or one-fine-day he found that he could flip just a little bit. He called this fancy move a "roll". Not like a bread roll or a patty melt (tee hee) more like a thing that defines how you go about in the world. A way of being. A roll.
Really, it was rolling along that made Ball's travels throughout Optia possible. One day, in Retrolopolis, Ball attended a Country Faire. He ate candy and vittles, roamed the fairgrounds, saw all kinds of entertainments... for example, there was a two-sided fellow who could flip onto his edge and spin in ever-diminishing arcs, around and round, until finally settling on one side. This was so mystifying to Ball, he wondered if the old patty, who called himself "Coiner", was ever going to deside. But when he finally settled, he would flip a couple of times and all of the polys and forms would applaude.
Anyways, something super-special happened later that day at the Faire. Ball wandered into an enchanting tent with a sign that said "Fortune Telling: Seven Sides to Shaping Up". Ball Dotsworth, son of Dottington Dotsworth... Ball stared into the mysterious shape at the center of the tent. Ball... Ball blinked. Ball, do you wonder how I know your name? I know many things. I even know why you are here. "You do?" Ball asked in wonder. Yes, Ball, listen to me... you have traveled to and through the many corners of Optia. You roll along, as is your wont, but excuse my flippancy you are flipping tired of the one-sided-ness of it all. Ball couldn't help but poach. Ball, life is as simple as you want it to be. But... I get the sense that you don't. You don't want it to be simple. You are multi-faceted and you want to roll... CLOCKWISE. And... you are looking for your counter... for your cog... you will find her, Ball, Ball Rollandplay Dotsworth. Trust me, and trust in yourself... things are going to Shape-Up for you! ...Enjoy the rest of Retro Country Faire. Oh, and, go to Explosia. Don't stop moving, Ball, roll along and rock forth.
Ball of course got back to things, and enjoyed the rest of the faire as the shape suggested. But he couldn't get what she said out of his shifting, searching, polygon head. "I'm... multi-faceted?" He said to himself. Ball had the kind of confidence that was absent of an ego. He didn't need to take complements and he didn't much care for insults. But he wasn't against a little bit of self-reflection at this time in his life. It's not that he was tired of rolling on choices. He knew, after all, that he and his family was a family of dice. That shape sure knew a lot, Ball thought to himself, I like the idea of shaping-up. I think it's kind of like moving forward. Once you've chosen your path, and chosen right, why do you need to keep chosing? The choice is made! That's it. I've decided.
Against all probability, Ball set off toward Explosia.......
He found that he wobbled a little bit, but it turned into a groovy swagger,,, now left, now to the right, swinging as he rolled, and all-in-all: leaving the heavy choices behind. Choices, that was what his father was all about. In fact it was so deeply ingrained in his family, that it left painful welts inside of his sides. He hadn't realized this until he saw The Shape. Now, moving forward and so forth, he realized that not only could he leave his choices behind and just roll with it, he could probably set about doing the hard inner work of rounding out his edges. Somewhere inside of him, he knew that this was what he would work toward... all those wandering days of roll-playing. He had seen The Shape, and that was all he needed to find enlightenment. He knew, but he had always thought that it was a jagged mountain to climb, too steep, too precipitous... too hard work to ascend, and too easy to fall back down. No, he didn't want to roll like that. Thinking back about the combinations he used to make up as a little patty-dot, he discovered something. A secret formula. "Work minus Choices = Play". No... that's not it! "I'm multi-faceted!" yelled Ball... to the vacant countryside on the road to Explosia. Ball rolled onto his successive face, and then rolled back, and then forward and back again, pinching his dots until he couldn't go forward OR backward... and he balanced. On his edge.
Whoa... thought Ball as he perched there like a parakeet, this feels good... he couldn't go back. Balanced at that Ball-point, he had found his true purpose. He knew in an instant, that he would go forward and forth from then on, a Sphere.
If you can't fill in the blanks, so to speak... he had found his practice. And it worked. And so he worked at it. All of the angles and edges that made up his round lattice were like portals into another world, one of memory and ambition. He was in no hurry to change, for on that delicate trapeze he had found a place where he could both rest and play. And it worked! His amazement, ceaseless, constant, continued as he rolled around freely and with ever-so-easy technique. It's not about doing what's hard, he thought, it's about doing what's SO right, that it's the easiest thing in the world.
He would continue not to do the only-thing-left, but to always do what was right - in any direction. North, South, East, West... Northeast, Southeast, Southwest, Northwest... And so on and so forth. He had become well-rounded after all, and Optia became a place of new dimensions for Ball, and for his Life Choice "Dotty". Dotty you ask? Let's just say she knew the difference between a corner and an intersection.
This was much too much for the poor dot. It felt overwhelmed, and so, it didn't go anywhere, or do anything.
Then, out of nowhere, the dot had an epiphany. It didn't have to go anywhere, it just had to make a choice. Left or right? And so, the dot went left.
And the dot saw that this was good. A good choice.
(Don't tell Dot that he could go forward or backward, too. This would be much too much for poor Dot.) But Dot continued on the leftward path.
Years later, Dottington Dottsworth, upon reflecting, realized that this primary choice was so much more than just two things. It must have been at least, let's say, TEN things. And so he called it a "dichotomy", DI- being the base-10 prefix, from the Greek.
{No! The prefix for 10 is "deka" as in decimal or decade}
<yes or decadence. But he's right. A choice is always worth more than just the options given. Don't you believe that? How about we call it a "die-chotomy", as in the singular of "dice". A two-sided choice, well that's the flip of a coin. But a die can be cast in any number of sides imaginable!>
Eventually, old Dottington Dotsworth was overcome by a case of malignant Freihetaphasia - the existentially oppressive weight of too many choices. He died. But he was carried on by his descendant, Ball Dotsworth.
Ball knew that he had a world of options at his ballpoint, and he courageously faced the possibilities. He grew up as a flattened ball, kind of a patty if you will, and he would flip! Back and forth. The kids at the academy said that he tended to waffle. He didn't know what this meant. But he got good marks, and soon enough he became quite "well rounded", although dimples would show from time to time, cuz he still knew how to flip.
Out of school, Dotsworth became quite worldly. He traveled from town to countryside, and he found himself flipping and flopping in many a curious town square. He spent a little time in Flatland, but after not too long he thought "what's the point".
What's the point? No one understand me here. One minute they're meeting me at my surface... they don't even know the meaning of the word "diemension" - they poke at me and wonder which direction I'm going to go... and then they move right past me as if that's all I've got. I could roll right over them! But I have more sense than to go and do that.
I guess there's a bit of an old world charm. Flatland... The Triangles are cute. It kind of tickles me to see the equilaterals rotate.
{It tickles me that Ball thinks he's really round. I mean he's many-sided, but those dimples are clearly facets. From when he used to waffle? If you look at it, when that patty flips he's just trying to choose "left or right" like his pops used to do}
Ball traveled the many realms of Optia. He was always looking for something, although he didn't rightly know what. He longed for a simpler time when he could go left and right, forward or backward; up and down, back and forth... he used to do that all day, playing and practicing and working on satisfying combinations. Up, down, up, down... left, right, left, right... back back and forward and forth. He wore down his edges and developed some grooves, and sooner or later or one-fine-day he found that he could flip just a little bit. He called this fancy move a "roll". Not like a bread roll or a patty melt (tee hee) more like a thing that defines how you go about in the world. A way of being. A roll.
Really, it was rolling along that made Ball's travels throughout Optia possible. One day, in Retrolopolis, Ball attended a Country Faire. He ate candy and vittles, roamed the fairgrounds, saw all kinds of entertainments... for example, there was a two-sided fellow who could flip onto his edge and spin in ever-diminishing arcs, around and round, until finally settling on one side. This was so mystifying to Ball, he wondered if the old patty, who called himself "Coiner", was ever going to deside. But when he finally settled, he would flip a couple of times and all of the polys and forms would applaude.
Anyways, something super-special happened later that day at the Faire. Ball wandered into an enchanting tent with a sign that said "Fortune Telling: Seven Sides to Shaping Up". Ball Dotsworth, son of Dottington Dotsworth... Ball stared into the mysterious shape at the center of the tent. Ball... Ball blinked. Ball, do you wonder how I know your name? I know many things. I even know why you are here. "You do?" Ball asked in wonder. Yes, Ball, listen to me... you have traveled to and through the many corners of Optia. You roll along, as is your wont, but excuse my flippancy you are flipping tired of the one-sided-ness of it all. Ball couldn't help but poach. Ball, life is as simple as you want it to be. But... I get the sense that you don't. You don't want it to be simple. You are multi-faceted and you want to roll... CLOCKWISE. And... you are looking for your counter... for your cog... you will find her, Ball, Ball Rollandplay Dotsworth. Trust me, and trust in yourself... things are going to Shape-Up for you! ...Enjoy the rest of Retro Country Faire. Oh, and, go to Explosia. Don't stop moving, Ball, roll along and rock forth.
Ball of course got back to things, and enjoyed the rest of the faire as the shape suggested. But he couldn't get what she said out of his shifting, searching, polygon head. "I'm... multi-faceted?" He said to himself. Ball had the kind of confidence that was absent of an ego. He didn't need to take complements and he didn't much care for insults. But he wasn't against a little bit of self-reflection at this time in his life. It's not that he was tired of rolling on choices. He knew, after all, that he and his family was a family of dice. That shape sure knew a lot, Ball thought to himself, I like the idea of shaping-up. I think it's kind of like moving forward. Once you've chosen your path, and chosen right, why do you need to keep chosing? The choice is made! That's it. I've decided.
Against all probability, Ball set off toward Explosia.......
He found that he wobbled a little bit, but it turned into a groovy swagger,,, now left, now to the right, swinging as he rolled, and all-in-all: leaving the heavy choices behind. Choices, that was what his father was all about. In fact it was so deeply ingrained in his family, that it left painful welts inside of his sides. He hadn't realized this until he saw The Shape. Now, moving forward and so forth, he realized that not only could he leave his choices behind and just roll with it, he could probably set about doing the hard inner work of rounding out his edges. Somewhere inside of him, he knew that this was what he would work toward... all those wandering days of roll-playing. He had seen The Shape, and that was all he needed to find enlightenment. He knew, but he had always thought that it was a jagged mountain to climb, too steep, too precipitous... too hard work to ascend, and too easy to fall back down. No, he didn't want to roll like that. Thinking back about the combinations he used to make up as a little patty-dot, he discovered something. A secret formula. "Work minus Choices = Play". No... that's not it! "I'm multi-faceted!" yelled Ball... to the vacant countryside on the road to Explosia. Ball rolled onto his successive face, and then rolled back, and then forward and back again, pinching his dots until he couldn't go forward OR backward... and he balanced. On his edge.
Whoa... thought Ball as he perched there like a parakeet, this feels good... he couldn't go back. Balanced at that Ball-point, he had found his true purpose. He knew in an instant, that he would go forward and forth from then on, a Sphere.
If you can't fill in the blanks, so to speak... he had found his practice. And it worked. And so he worked at it. All of the angles and edges that made up his round lattice were like portals into another world, one of memory and ambition. He was in no hurry to change, for on that delicate trapeze he had found a place where he could both rest and play. And it worked! His amazement, ceaseless, constant, continued as he rolled around freely and with ever-so-easy technique. It's not about doing what's hard, he thought, it's about doing what's SO right, that it's the easiest thing in the world.
He would continue not to do the only-thing-left, but to always do what was right - in any direction. North, South, East, West... Northeast, Southeast, Southwest, Northwest... And so on and so forth. He had become well-rounded after all, and Optia became a place of new dimensions for Ball, and for his Life Choice "Dotty". Dotty you ask? Let's just say she knew the difference between a corner and an intersection.
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