Matt Hughes

“Who was it who said that irony is the fundamental operating principle of the universe?”

“I believe,” I said, “that it was Henghis Hapthorn.”

Well, as I say, authority is always lawfully relinquished, but sometimes the legitimacy is acquired after the relinquishment.

“You mean retroactively?”

I mean that cause and effect are not always arranged in an ideal sequence.

“In other words,” Filidor translated, “not only do victors write the histories, but usurpers also rewrite the rule book to justify the illicit seizure of office.”

Perhaps not the most felicitous manner of putting it, but essentially correct.

“I am surprised the people put up with such shenanigans. They should rise up.”

Unwittingly, I am sure, you put your finger on the flaw in your own reasoning.

“How so?”

You said, “They should rise up,” not “We should rise up.” As long as it is a matter to be solved by others, it will not be.

Does not the acceptance of a spurious perfection end the search for true perfection?

Insanity was not unknown among the wealthy. Indeed, some forms of madness had sometimes been cultivated as fashionable accessories.

Coming whence you do, you doubtless assume that the mores and customs of your own land arise from the workings of simple human nature. But human nature is far from simple, and what appears natural in your own milieu may seem chillingly alien when transported into some foreign sphere.

Into the Zeelotic ethos, we have injected the philosophical axiom—well known to the field of fashion—that the outmoded only remains so until it becomes unremembered, after which it may justly return as the avant-garde.

“I suspect that the benefits of travel are indeed overrated. It seems mostly hardship and needless frustration,” she said.

“Knowledge can be a hindrance to right action,” answered the little man. “There are those who hold that, if we but knew the full ramifications of even our least deeds, the ensuing concatenations of cause and effect would paralyze us with indecision.”

“I am not one to deny the broadening effects of distant lands,” offered Nofreg, “yet I have often said that the chief benefit of travel is to allow the returned sojourner a renewed appreciation of his native milieu.”

Gathering himself together, he asked the dwarf, “Was all this in some way planned and predetermined?”

Gaskarth turned upon the young man a thoughtful gaze. “There are those who say that all is planned, to the placement of the last mote and mite. There are others who say that nothing is purposed, and that the galaxies themselves swing where they will. And then there are some, like me, who prefer to walk on, saying as little as possible.”