Okay.

It’s time.

Just what the hellfire is a-going-on here!?

There’s a man with a plan over there . . . as well as there, there and assuredly there.

And I’m telling you, it’s one that’s certainly got me aware. (With a considerable apology owed to one Steven Stills, a Gainesville type who in his freshman year assuredly knew what and where he was going with his career, even if others, especially blood kin, thought him crazy, if not just plain lazy.)

But “of what?” What has me aware?

There’s nothing written that a plan must be something of which everyone is aware. And there’s supposed to be at least one there, somewhere.

Indeed, insofar as your faithful, even if now-only-occasional scribe is aware, a plan’s purpose need only be completely known but to one. That no one else at all may, must know or have imagined anything at all is not a given. It’s darn sure not demanded.

Heard now is someone claiming or demanding knowledge of the plan.

Hasn't made, didn't make a hill-of-beans' difference, did it now?

In war, those things which become suddenly, glaringly and even explosively evident are often called “surprise attacks” . . . and for good reason.

And such has not to be a very, um, “wonderful” surprise, at that, often isn't to those who are the least prepared for its reveal.

Isn't it curious that a “surprise” can be both pleasant and not, depending on perspective; all boiling down to the “side of a fence” on which one stands?

Yet, in another regard, well, one can do without a surprise. Huh?

Okay. Let’s get along to a tangential subject of late: "megalomania."

With credit due to Merriam and-everyone-knows Webster:

“meg-a-lo-ma-nia”

“: a mania for great or grandiose performance

: a delusional mental disorder that is marked by feelings of personal omnipotence and grandeur.”

Well, if that don’t seem confused, then what might?

“Grandiose” kinda has been a favorite of mine but for reasons likely foreign to others: “gladiolas.” That’s right: “Down the aisle a bit; just on the other side of the petunias you'll find the grandioses" . . . or something like that.

Okay, so let’s give “mania” a whack (again crediting Merriam and-everyone-knows Webster):

“ma·nia"

": excitement manifested by mental and physical hyperactivity, disorganization of behavior, and elevation of mood ; specifically : the manic phase of bipolar disorder

: excessive or unreasonable enthusiasm —often used in combination”

Well, we all certainly know of at least one member of the paddock disposed of said “hyperactivity,” although it seems Merriam and-everyone-knows Webster get a little weak when used in an explanation is a derivative word of the one being defined: manic and mania, respectively.

I mean, can’t one just say, “crazy?” Such is certainly not to say that mania necessarily is crazy, it’s just that if one is looking to cut to the chase, “crazy” pretty well does it. 

Right?

Well, for what it’s worth (get it, right?), seen upfront and personal just a couple or three days ago was the fella who’s supposed to be more disposed of it than anyone else at all. Megalomania, that is.

Well, clearly a Professor Irwin Corey he's not.

Yet now confused only further still, one can’t help but wonder: Just what in hellfire is a-going-on here!?

Frankly, it’s doubtful there has ever been a time when more uncertain is the future than this time. Don’t you think?

It is a time when, say, 18 months ago everyone would've been thought by now to be in-sync yet, at least to your not-really-humble-at-all scribe, we’re talking “dysfunctional” now occurring (preferred from this perspective is “getting down”) at a level that few have previously seen.

It feels so whacked that not unexpected are a left turn, right turn, sudden deceleration and acceleration all occurring simultaneously at the next green flag’s drop - and all by Pruett, alone. Got another maneuver to drop in there? Go for it. Hell, if anyone can, Pruett's the one.

May as well. Drop in another there, after all.

Unsure for darn sure is the plan or, perhaps, even the man supposedly with that plan.

What a time to be alive! When one can't help but see a great mystery unfold (or might that be unravel?) before one's very eyes!

Later,

DC