|Blogs > interested13563 > BLUE WAVES|
A. P. V. I. - A STRANGE STORY, PART V (CONCLUSION)
A. P. V. I. - A STRANGE STORY, PART V (CONCLUSION)
“If you don’t mind, Bob”, I inquired, “what is your profession?”.
“I am the CEO of a company that produces superconductors”, the
stunning reply was unloaded on me. “You must know a lot about these
materials, then”, I said. “No, Paul, of course I know nothing about
any such materials! But we’ve got a couple of guys who know everything.
We keep them reasonably paid and well guarded”. “Naturally”, I continued,
“and your regional A. P. V. I. director?” - “He is a local judge and sports-caster!”.
At this moment I had all I had been looking for. The circle of observation and
inquiry was closed.
But I was getting drained and tired. It was only my curiosity that had
kept me going that night. The time had come for me to go. There was
only so much boisterousness I could take in one dose. I thanked Bob,
who would probably be glad to get back to his memoir writing. He was
obviously delighted to give me the message as he said, "always a
pleasure". My search was fruitful but the feeling of success exhausted
me and the thoughts it generated troubled my mind. "Good bye, Bob!
And good night!" I bid him as I stood up and moved towards the door,
reluctantly putting my overcoat on. "See 'ya later alligator!" he burst
out laughing thunderously.
When I stepped out of the A. P. V. I. regional headquarters the rain had
stopped but the sidewalks were still wet. There was a feeling of
coldness permeating the atmosphere. It seemed to emanate from my
chest as much as it rose from the small water pools scattered
along the pavement. The trees that had hardly been shelters in the
storm were closing their cycle of mockery at the human predicament by
raining down the water that had previously been retained in their
foliage. I walked slowly suppressing a shiver that ran down my
spine, keeping my hands in the pockets of my uncomfortably wet
The meeting had been brief but illuminating. I had gotten an
inadvertent glimpse of a world that was probable to take shape,
a fleeting image of an ongoing devolution, of an unraveling
carnage of life and reason, a potential end to rational or even
As I walked in the dark empty streets of Pella my thoughts and
feelings lacked coherence. The bulky silhouettes of the surrounding
buildings entered my eyes wearily, oppressively. My internal processes
acquired the structure of physical existence by means of the
enveloping landscape that reflected them, giving material substance
to the intangible. I remembered my late grandmother. In her nineties,
life had reduced her physical presence to a small wad of entangled
memories. I loved that tiny being who used to hold my hand years
before I had to support hers. I had tried to follow those intertwined
threads hoping to arrive at an end, my grandmother's essence. But
as they wandered, wound, and diffusively merged into one another
I had come to realize that her real self was the connectivity that
emerged through the labyrinthic meander of her past experience
like a final word, a dotted line she singed on as she checked out
of life. It was the neatly spun spool of fishing-line
embodied in my recent interlocutor's "raison d' être", his proud
lack of everything, that prompted the revival of the old woman's memory.
Not of her, admittedly limited, knowledge but of the way she infused
the world with her love without projecting strength or glamour.
A small wad of loving memories that still brings tears to my eyes.
But as the moonless night fell heavy on the roofs that emerged as
darker volumes on a charcoal canvas it was the image of the
town of Velia in Southern Italy that silently entered my mind.
Velia still preserved some of the ruins of ancient Elea,
the city of Parmenides, the city where the pursuit
of knowledge was the law and the laws of reason were established
by the philosopher. I was walking in the intellectual and physical
antidote of Elea. Pella was as landlocked as anything could be
while Elea had enjoyed the inspiring breeze of the Mediterranean,
the spray of salty blue waves that stirred emotions, a deep craving
for knowledge and understanding. There can be regression in history.
I felt I was living through one. But still I hoped that humanity
would be unable protect herself from her very propensity for inquiry,
learning, and creating. Once the flame had been lit it would
always be fueled by our intrinsic desire for knowledge and reason
as Parmenides had envisioned it. Humanity may have worshiped gods,
often cruel ones, but had always empathized with Prometheus.
Yet at that moment I had doubts, a mixture of cold and heat
waves churning painfully in my brain. But isn't doubt an unalienable
part of the rational process?
The night was almost freezing as late autumn nights are in Iowa.
My steps echoed on the building walls, amplified by the cold surfaces
to sound bigger than my limited physical dimensions - a lonely night
walker looking for some truth and comprehension whatever they might be.
I knew little and understood even less. I walked doubtful over my next
destination, worried over how to follow up on my latest discoveries.
But I was certain I would think of something.
JUST FOR LAUGHS....
Copyright 2005 by interested13563
11/10/2005 12:12 am
11/10/2005 10:48 am
Thank you all for reading!!!|
There is no continuation to
this story. It was intended
as a social commentary and
a science fiction idea based
on the theory of evolution.
But above all it was just for
There may be some other stories
11/12/2005 2:50 pm
AsianLady: this must mean I am very viscious!!!!|
Thank you so much for reading!!!!!
11/12/2005 7:50 pm
Brilliant !!! |
11/13/2005 2:01 pm
Silky: Thank you so much for reading and|
for the nice comment!!!!!
11/17/2005 9:49 am
Waggy, thanks for reading. I usually do not write prose|
but I just felt the need to express some of my worries
and observations in a kind of science fiction way.