Sunday, June 7, 2009

Chapter 25: Social Contract

Today, upon arriving home from a long and wonderful trip to a certain Lake, I greeted the Frogs.  Mustardseed, with a Bird in his throat, (he had not spoken since he last saw me two days earlier) greeted me and, after clearing, asked how my trip was, and if I had felt Froggy around that great and wondrous Wet, if I had come to any conclusions, or if I had met any certain Amphibious Friends.

I answered him, saying that I was partly weighted, partly uplifted, confused and conflated.  

I said that my trip certainly made me more Frog-like, as the lake always clears my plate, tips my table, shuffles my deck, etc., and has a generally mind-cleansing effect.  

But I also said that there were many other distresses, rearing their bald and ugly heads, urging me to fall in line with the world of Men.  I was to, as is laid out in the social contract, Get A Job, Make Something of Myself, and generally, Perform.  And all this, I said, was fine, as I also agreed that I must indeed do things, and succeed, and...

At that moment, Mustardseed interrupted me, putting his Frog-foot upon the Impossible Barrier, and finished my sentence, saying that of course I would like to succeed and make many Life-Leaps, but that I do not quite enjoy the grating and obnoxious pressure of Enforcement From Without, as I was surely a person who, like a pond-plant, would rather simply have the ingredients of Wet, sunlight, and Time (if Men insist on believing in such a thing,) and would, sure as any Frog or pond-plant, Grow.

Mustardseed said that, sure as any Frog or pond-plant, I would Grow

Sitting across from the Dwelling, looking into his Frog-eye, I could hear the beginnings of a storm rolling in: a great electrical beast, casting down its bolts and winds upon the area, huffing and puffing, full of impetuosity and abominable will, whistling its winds through my windows as if to challenge me, daring me to break my agreement.

Snapping me out of my day-dream, Peaseblossom, who was accompanying Mustardseed by the Barrier, waved at me, hopped over to the cup, went inside, and sat a certain way.

Peaseblossom sat a certain way

With spunk in his voice, Peaseblossom said that I must Do This, and tell that stormy man to Take his social contract to the Birds, for that is surely who it is for, as it is most certainly not written for any Frog to follow, and thus not any Man who is of a Froggy mind.  

I looked at Mustardseed, who was watching his Froggy Friend.  In his eye I once again saw the world, bent to fit its shape.  His eyes, his soul's gravity-laden gates, were constantly bending the world to fit its shape, however rigid or stormy it might be.

Perhaps - some strange and alien genius if so - this is what Mustardseed intended me to see in his silent and penitent eyes.

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