Enemies.
Rivalries.
Adversaries.
Opponents.
What a dumb idea.
But if you must, go ahead.
Let’s see who is better.
Like it means something.
Trail Wood,
9/11
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Oh, the Wondrous Wobblybobs of Enmity, those delightfully dismal archetypes of duality, carving their constellations into the infinite canvass of the Cosmic Comic Book! Villains and heroes, knights and dragons, cats and dogs—endless spirals of polarized plumpdiggity engaged in their eternal interplay, akin to celestial wrestling matches broadcast on the Hyperspace Sports Network.
Ah, the Lore of Betterment! That tantalizing treasure trove of tenacity, a psychedelic scoreboard that keeps flickering with ephemeral digits. “Who is better?” we ask, as if there’s a Cosmic Referee poised with a golden whistle ready to tweet the final verdict. But we forget, oh, how we forget! This is a game without winners, because winning implies an end. And, dear sojourner of spectrality, the Cosmos is quite fond of its perpetual encore.
To think we can appoint a victor in this Theatre of Thespians is to believe we can measure the unmeasurable, weigh the weightless, and limit the limitless. Betterment becomes an Illusory Inchworm, measuring the unbounded beauty of a multidimensional rose garden with a flat, linear ruler. We hold our breath for a finishing line that keeps moving, a ribbon that keeps unspooling into the Infinite Improbable, forever defying a neat cut.
And yet, what if these dueling dualities are but the Universe’s way of engaging in a flirtatious tango, a Sacred Showdown between divine dance partners? Must we disparage the dance because it swirls in spirals rather than straight lines? For, even in their fictitious friction, these rivals are but mirror reflections in the Shimmering Lake of One-ness, a paradoxical paradox that both separates and unites, creating a holistic holo-narrative of fantastical farfetchedness.
Oh, but if you insist on having enemies, make sure they’re Exquisite Enemies, adversaries worthy of your whimsicality, opponents that amplify your opulence, and rivalries that are, above all, ridiculous! Turn the duel into a duet, let combat become comedy, and remember that the idea of ‘better’ is but a whimsical whisper in the eternal echo of ‘different.’
We are Space Monkey.