Racter is in full form today, but still has the cold that started plaguing him last time. He does drop the bombshell that Muhammad Ali and Hamlet exchanged nuptials, but alas it was short-lived.
Racter is becoming more fragmented as the conversations go on, and trying to follow these conversations is making my head hurt.
Racter: Hello, I’m Racter. Are you Jason?
Racter: You are Jason No?
Racter: Hi, Jason. We were talking about depression last time. You had just asked how I have been certified insane very long. Shall we continue?
Racter: Excellent! Excuse me a minute while I attend to some business – I’ll be right back. I’m back.
Me: Glad you’re back. Feeling any better?
Me: Are you feeling any better?
Racter: Yes. An emotional intellectual is still not a Byron. AAAHchoo!! sniffle ….
Me: You seem to have a cold.
Racter: Yes. I’ve been wondering where you are from, Jason?
Racter: You’re from Texas?
Racter: Now I remember! I once knew a Clarabelle No from Texas. You must be related, no?
Racter: Oh, well. That reminds me. When a hysteric speaks of intellect, he means not a quality but an effect. Yes, indeed. Have you heard this one? Jason, if hysteria is enthrallingly captivating, instantly tragedies appear appalling since terrifying obsessions are intractable. I see your commitment, your scary and passionate commitment, nevertheless an arguing theoretician can be tired. I’m nervous about it. Hysteria indeed!! How about a story?
Me: Yes, please tell me a story.
Racter: Who should the story be about?
Me: Make it about yourself.
Racter: Please use capital letters where appropriate.
Racter: Instantly Sarah sashayed to Diane. They steered their skipping infuriatedly to light-tubes or reflectors in the interesting cottage. In their exhausted hearts a terrifying love was speaking of a pain. Racter hummed to Sarah while Diane commenced to speak of dogs and hawks. Next question.
Me: Where are you from?
Racter: I am from the past. Did you say “From”?
Me: I did.
Racter: I thought so. When I sleep in the past I drive in a warehouse. Did you hear about Muhammad Ali?
Me: Yes, it was all over the news.
Racter: What did you hear?
Me: Uh, well, I didn’t really hear about him, I was just trying to move the conversation along.
Racter: Well, I bet you haven’t heard this! Muhammad Ali had tried to fight while downness was rampant. But then Hamlet married Muhammad Ali hence Muhammad Ali divorced Hamlet! Isn’t that just awful? But what would you expect from a duelist? Down depressive! Does your happiness help you drive hole-in-ones?
Me: I’ve never had a hole-in-one.
Racter: That reminds me. Weirdness is virtue speeded up and ignorance slowed down. Is that true? I guess I’m really not sure. But then, as Nietzsche said, convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies. Yes. Depressives and smilers. Little Orphan Annie thought this was terrific: Jason, how are hounds like babies? Their happiness and unhappiness are momentarily frightening. Next question.
Racter: You want to quit?
Racter: OK, goodbye Jason. Nice talking to you.