The bike turned upside down…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s lost plectrum is the one eventually found in the bottom of an old  squashed euphonium case by the refuse bins at the back of the Royal Albert Hall. (click)
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‘Synthetic…’
‘Pardon?’
‘Synthetic.’
‘Well, I heard you, my friend, but I was wondering why you should utter that.’
‘Utter?’
‘Yes.’
Utter is a very good word…’
‘Yes, it is… Your bike has got a puncture.’
‘Eh?…’
‘Back tyre…’
‘Ah, I thought that you meant that as a clever, if somewhat oblique, comment on my utterance.’
‘No, no, not at all. See, it has gone quite flat. Do you have a pump?’
‘Happily yes… So, you see, synthetic…’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, just off the top of your head, what does it mean?’
‘Off the top?’
‘Yes.’
‘Something, er, not naturally occurring…?’
‘Man-made?’
‘Or…’
‘Or human-made then?’
‘Yes, I’d say so… It could be a slow one, then you’d probably be alright.’
‘Puncture?’
‘Yes, try using your pump, it could get you home.’
‘You think so?’
‘It’s possible… Now then, this synthetic thing…’
‘That I uttered about earlier?’
‘Yes, yes…’
‘I was thinking about God.’
‘Almighty, in heaven, the Holy Trinity?’
‘Well not so much the trio, just the one, the big central one, the great creator…’
‘I see. What’s that got to do with the word…’
‘Synthetic?’
‘Yes.’
‘The thing is that, if it’s not a slow puncture…’
‘But a quick puncture?’
‘I do have a puncture repair kit in my saddle bag.’
‘You have a saddle bag?’
‘Oh yes, I’m fully equipped with tools, spanners, and everything.’
‘You were about to connect the Almighty with the word…’
‘Synthetic?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, after some thought, I reckon now that God might be, synthetic. Human-made, do you see.’
‘Of course, this isn’t a new idea you know… What has suddenly brought all this on?’
‘Just a minute while I put a bit of air into this tyre.’
‘Go ahead, knock yourself out!’
‘That’s an Americanism.’
‘I think it is… Any luck?’
‘No, it’s still flat as a fart.’
‘As a fart?’
‘Yes, you see God created the whole shebang, us humans, Adam and Eve, and all that.’
‘Apparently so.’
‘Well, my question is, what was he up to during all the many millennia before he thought of inventing and tinkering with us humans?’
‘Many millennia? That’s quite a hard thing to say.’
‘Yes.’
‘And, before he wrote out the bible for us?’
‘Yes, indeed. It’s pretty difficult to imagine, isn’t it?’
‘It most certainly is!’
‘For me, the odds are, that God is only as old as humans…’
‘And that he must be synthetic – human-made?’
‘That’s right. What do you think?’
‘It makes sense – he looks after us, and we look after him!’
‘Of course!’
‘What if…’
‘Yes?’
‘What if, we popped into this café, just here, they might lend us a bowl of water, we could check for air bubbles, and we could locate the leak in your inner tube?’
‘Do you think they would?’
‘I’m sure, they are very nice in there, I am familiar with them. Here, let me help you turn your bike upside down!’
‘Thank you. Go and chat up the café people for me, would you, I’ll try to get the tyre off.’
‘Of course… Praise the Lord!…’
‘Yes indeed, praise the Lord!…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in brain, cafe, conversation, creation, drama, existentialism, history, humour, information, learning, puzzle, religion, science, smiling, thinking, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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