know the fellow at FedMath who is in charge of Roman numerals. Been there for years and years and in spite of the fact that practically no one uses the things any more, he takes enormous pride in his craftsmanship. I shall be sure to let him know about this diary—it will give him some pleasure, I am sure, to see his numbers put to such good use.
“Jenny Lind used to feed me peanuts,” my friend said this morning. “They tasted of lavender, from the touch of her fingers. But for one time, I never got to watch her sing since we were all herded back to the menagerie during her performances, the lions and tigers and horses and the other elephants, though I could hear her, of course. We all could.”
“You said but for one time?”
“Yes . . . yes . . . It was an extraordinary evening. That was back when there was still a moon, you know, quite a while before your time. She came out to my pen, like a will-o’-the-wisp in the moonlight she was, and sang to me. You can’t imagine what she sounded like, Wally, you’ve never lived in a time when there were anything more than eight whole notes. But it was heaven, Wally, or the nearest thing to it. Just thinking about it brings a tear to my eyes.”
And he was speaking the truth, too, since I saw him myself wipe away a bead of moisture with the end of his trunk. I felt a little embarrassed at this display of emotion and changed the subject.
The sun seemed to set a little early tonight and I didn’t approve of the sunset colors at all. There are some things that ought to remain traditional.
Day IV
I suppose I should have mentioned right off the bat that I work for General Naturalistics, Inc., where I have been assistant manager of Surface Tension for nearly ten years. It is a position of some considerable responsibility. The average person takes surface tension entirely for granted, but let them try to do without for a day! Listen to the howls of complaints that would rise then! But, I am proud to say, our department—at least as long as I have been associated with it—has never allowed surface tension to vary by more than 0.00012 percent. Let’s just see Viscosity or Friction try to match that figure! And as for Inertia, why, they are hardly even in the running!
“Gargantua and I would share a bottle of wine a couple of evenings every week,” my friend said. “He was one of the most pleasant companions one could possibly wish for and probably the best friend I ever had at Barnum’s. It was too bad about his face—it had been scarred terribly by acid—but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. ‘Jumbo’, he would say, ‘This face has been my fortune and, besides, I don’t have to look at myself in a mirror if I don’t want to, so what difference does it make to me what I look like?’ See what I mean, Wally? Gargantua was like that, a real philosopher. Could bend a steel rail like a paper clip but wouldn’t hurt a fly. Would you please pass the marmalade?”
The water has been rising I see. Whether this is due to the cutbacks in United Gravity’s budget or not I am in no position to say, but I do feel unusually light on my feet today.
Day XII
I’m sorry I complained about the sunsets earlier. Today I learned that in order to avoid laying off the entire staff of its Spectrum Department, Amalgamated Prismatics has instead cut back on the number of colors. Instead of red, orange, yellow, blue and green we now have just red, yellow and blue. I suppose that will do for most people. Goodness knows, though, what this means for the future of taupe and mauve.
“It’s funny you should ask,” said my friend as we finished our morning coffee. “I hardly recall my youth at all—that is, the years I spent in the African jungle before joining Mr. Barnum’s great organization. Just fleeting images that mean very little to me any more: large green leaves, open plains of yellow grass, tremendously bright sunlight—not like the sunlight you get nowadays, not
“Jenny Lind used to feed me peanuts,” my friend said this morning. “They tasted of lavender, from the touch of her fingers. But for one time, I never got to watch her sing since we were all herded back to the menagerie during her performances, the lions and tigers and horses and the other elephants, though I could hear her, of course. We all could.”
“You said but for one time?”
“Yes . . . yes . . . It was an extraordinary evening. That was back when there was still a moon, you know, quite a while before your time. She came out to my pen, like a will-o’-the-wisp in the moonlight she was, and sang to me. You can’t imagine what she sounded like, Wally, you’ve never lived in a time when there were anything more than eight whole notes. But it was heaven, Wally, or the nearest thing to it. Just thinking about it brings a tear to my eyes.”
And he was speaking the truth, too, since I saw him myself wipe away a bead of moisture with the end of his trunk. I felt a little embarrassed at this display of emotion and changed the subject.
The sun seemed to set a little early tonight and I didn’t approve of the sunset colors at all. There are some things that ought to remain traditional.
Day IV
I suppose I should have mentioned right off the bat that I work for General Naturalistics, Inc., where I have been assistant manager of Surface Tension for nearly ten years. It is a position of some considerable responsibility. The average person takes surface tension entirely for granted, but let them try to do without for a day! Listen to the howls of complaints that would rise then! But, I am proud to say, our department—at least as long as I have been associated with it—has never allowed surface tension to vary by more than 0.00012 percent. Let’s just see Viscosity or Friction try to match that figure! And as for Inertia, why, they are hardly even in the running!
“Gargantua and I would share a bottle of wine a couple of evenings every week,” my friend said. “He was one of the most pleasant companions one could possibly wish for and probably the best friend I ever had at Barnum’s. It was too bad about his face—it had been scarred terribly by acid—but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. ‘Jumbo’, he would say, ‘This face has been my fortune and, besides, I don’t have to look at myself in a mirror if I don’t want to, so what difference does it make to me what I look like?’ See what I mean, Wally? Gargantua was like that, a real philosopher. Could bend a steel rail like a paper clip but wouldn’t hurt a fly. Would you please pass the marmalade?”
The water has been rising I see. Whether this is due to the cutbacks in United Gravity’s budget or not I am in no position to say, but I do feel unusually light on my feet today.
Day XII
I’m sorry I complained about the sunsets earlier. Today I learned that in order to avoid laying off the entire staff of its Spectrum Department, Amalgamated Prismatics has instead cut back on the number of colors. Instead of red, orange, yellow, blue and green we now have just red, yellow and blue. I suppose that will do for most people. Goodness knows, though, what this means for the future of taupe and mauve.
“It’s funny you should ask,” said my friend as we finished our morning coffee. “I hardly recall my youth at all—that is, the years I spent in the African jungle before joining Mr. Barnum’s great organization. Just fleeting images that mean very little to me any more: large green leaves, open plains of yellow grass, tremendously bright sunlight—not like the sunlight you get nowadays, not
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