In the time of coming darkness, there lived a man named Ralph Angelo, known, because of the square set of his shoulders and his blocky black shoes, as Rectangle. This man was highly skilled in all matters creative and scientific. He could work with wood and silk. He could write songs and poems. He earned money as a television and radio repairman, and he had kept pace with the times by learning how to repair computers and cellular telephones as well. He had a special interest in divination. For an hour each day, beginning at noon, he would sit outside his place of business. Men would bring him books of matches, which he would scatter on the table in front of him, and after inspecting them for a few moments he would lift his head and make an announcement. “Do not leave your wife,” he would say, or “Get to the doctor about that headache,” or “Wake up earlier; you will thank me.” His advice was worth much, and given with a spirit of total sacrifice and generosity. While he sat at the match table, he did not eat and did not drink and would not accept even a penny in payment. His work was tireless. If the community had only listened to him it would have flourished, but the men who brought matchbooks often went away laughing at Rectangle, and their wives and children at home reinforced this mockery, and the men continued sleeping, or did not check out their headaches, or packed a bag and moved out of the house. Appalled by their insensibility, Rectangle folded up his table and went back to repairing radios, televisions, computers and cellular telephones, which brought people news they did not need, and by degrees turned them into people who were needed by no one.
©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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