Recently, my core self, that I have labeled Steve Quixote, has escaped from the closet that I had stored him in for a few years now. I am not sure how he got out, but he is once again rampaging around the world, taking on windmills and other destructive objects that cross his path. Well he would be, but being locked in a closet for a few years tends to atrophy a muscle or three, not to mention does some damage to the sight, so he is off to a rather sluggish start. I am not quite sure how he actually got out in the first place.
In his gallant and naive manner however, he rushed out of the closet as full steam as an un-exercised, half blind man can, and headed right fo the biggest beastie he could find. He even created a new blog to take on this massive creature. As one might expect, this target didn’t even notice he was there. But our hero will not give up THAT easily! After all he didn’t even have a horse or a lance that time, so even he was not surprised that it did not quite work right away.
Then a particularly nasty windmill went and attacked his sister. This of course could not go unanswered. Still not quite sure where his horse and lance were, he grabbed the nearest weapon, namely a pen, and charged once again. This time he thought he got a good scratch in, only to find the windmill was just toying with him.
Our hero stumbled home, still not defeated, and not a day later encountered a couple of thoughtless statues that were inciting the crowds to riotous acts. He did not even feel he needed a weapon other than valorous words this time, and regaled the statues with words of wisdom. But the statues turned their stone ears to him, and continued to share their vitriol.
At this point, our hero had to admit to a slight despondency. It seems while his noble heart had survived incarceration in the closet, his fighting skills had definitely lessened. Plus he still needed his steed, his weapons, and frankly his stalwart companion, all who seem to be missing right now. With a sigh, he spoke a sentence in one of his favorite watering holes (i.e. Facebook): “When will humanity learn how to think again? Or am I making an assumption that we ever learned how in the first place?”
A wise man from his past happened to be there. The wise man had a mystical sphere that he often consulted to increase his own wisdom. He did the requisite gyrations required to get the sphere’s attention, and he got his answer:
This did not exactly lift Steve Quixote’s heart. He is now considering that maybe staying in the closet would be the best thing to do.