Bennett Sewell Art

Hattie Mae:

 

Endever can’t talk now.  He’s freaked out.  I’ll bring you up to date; he’ll come around in 3 minutes.

 

Thanks for coming to see us.  Endever was a shy puppy.  He spent a great deal of time by himself, just doing.  He quit asking why out loud when he was about 2; after that it was watching and listening and wondering.  “Wonder” is the other side of “why” you know.   When he was 1, he got in trouble for putting salt in the breakfast sugar.  When the old lady dog down the street said, “Don’t be too hard on him, it is written.”  Our mother said, “If there’s any writin’ to do around here, I’ll do it.”  She taught him by rote early on and by reason later; it’s up to you, it’s your choice.  Be good to yourself and family, make something of yourself, be responsible, and above all, pay attention.  She was always there to praise him or console.  He grew up, studied hard, got a good job, married, had a family; PTA, and life insurance, the usual, a good man of free will.

 

When he was 6, he began to wonder, “Why did he have all this free will with his responsibilities while the rest of the world worked on natural laws.  Every day the sun came up in the east, all the rivers ran to the sea, rain drips down, and smoke rises up.”  He also noted that many dogs do the same thing over and over again even though the results were painful.

 

So one day he stopped in at Wal-mart and got his gnome decoded, went home, got online, and entered:

 

“Who am I?”

 

In a moment, a response, “Enter your gnome and sign the non-disclosure and hold harmless agreements.” 

 

He did.

 

In a moment, a response, “Enter ‘Yes’ if you are ready.”

 

He did.

 

In a moment, a t-mail, “Endever Straight©, past, present, and future.  Please read.”

 

He did.

 

In the first chapter, The Past, were all of his experiences, even his most private thoughts.  He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t understand how that could be.

 

Then the first sentence in the second chapter, The Present, “Endever Straight©, you are quite anxious.” He asked himself, “Wait, what is that copyright symbol doing next to my name?”  All of a sudden he realized that he was a creation, a figment of someone or something’s imagination, a puppet, a toy in a game called living, played out in a giant sandbox called earth.  He was not a self-made man. That’s when he freaked out, a genuine existential crisis.  But he’ll come around in 3 minutes, and then I’m going to freak him out for another 3 minutes when I tell him that that’s not all there is to know, there’s the future. Furthermore, we’re all in it together, playing the same game in the same sandbox.  But just between you and me, it doesn’t really make any difference since the only thing that really does is what we think and feel is going on when we do.