A Chat with Ribeaux

Ribeaux: Hello. Can you hear me? Is anyone here? Anyone at all?
Kraekun: Yes, Ribeaux, I am here. It is I, Kraekun!
Ribeaux: Hello, Kraekun.
Kraekun: Hello.
Ribeaux: Tell me, have you the time?
Kraekun: The time for what? For me, there is always time.
Ribeaux: For a chat, or a verse, or a well-turned phrase.
Kraekun: Ah...I may need the time, for all that.
Ribeaux: Well, you see, my time, it seems so...limited. I hurry here and scurry there, always after some new pursuit...always, always, always it seems, perpetually "on time", and yet, always in a hurry and never for the things I want.
Kraekun: Well, what is it that you seek? Money, fame? Perhaps a new set of threads?
Ribeaux: No, not in the least. I want for nothing. However, wouldn't it be nice to simply take a very long shower...I mean, truly long. Stay in there for days. Wouldn't that be nice?
Kraekun: Well, I would think one would become rather "crinkled" in that, wouldn't you?
Ribeaux: Oh, I should think rather shriveled...but, would it not be so very cool if you were not. Wrinkled that is.
Kraekun: Well, I suppose. Tell me, this isolation and protracted cleansing, what effect do you suppose it would have on your countenance? Do you suppose it would flatter your soul?
Ribeaux: Well, if we use the physical as example, I suppose the heated water will ultimately have a drying effect on the body...sort of robbing it of its natural emollients. I wonder if it would do the same to the mind and conscience?
Kraekun: Well, if one had a conscience, then I suppose it just might have *some* effect...I wonder what form a dry soul would take?
Ribeaux: With that much cleansing, I would think it would be most "squeeky" - very clean, I suppose.
Kraekun: Yes, but three days! God forbid. The skin might all slough off...then where would you be? A walking set of musculature. Arnold Schwarzenegger would be proud!
Ribeaux: Oh, I don't know about that.
Kraekun: What ever do you mean?
Ribeaux: Well, in my case, he might be a bit embarrassed.
Kraekun: Oh?
Ribeaux: Well, let's just say that my soul is a bit "healthy".
Kraekun: Ah. Well, there is much to be said for the glutenous soul! Why, think of all the great men who were "portly", deep down. Why I'd venture to say that most men are of a portly sort, when you peel back the flesh and peer into the soul. What man doesn't wish to feast!
Ribeaux: Yes, but feast on what?
Kraekun: Well, in matters of the soul, I would think righteousness.
Ribeaux: Ah, and there is the rub.
Kraekun: Hmmm?
Ribeaux: Well, you see, isn't it really definitional?
Kraekun: Righteousness?
Ribeaux: Well, what is right, really.
Kraekun: I don't follow you?
Ribeaux: Well, given a choice between two circumstances...which is the "right" choice?
Kraekun: Well, that depends on the circumstances, don't you think?
Ribeaux: Not really. I mean, regardless of circumstance, one choice will be right, and therefore righteous, and the other...not.
Kraekun: I suppose...
Ribeaux: No supposition...it is black and white...right is right.
Kraekun: Well, let's break it down with an example.
Ribeaux: Absolutely. You have two guys.
Kraekun: Yes, in a chat room.
Ribeaux: OK. Let's say they are discussing...oh I don't know...sports!
Kraekun: Sounds reasonable.
Ribeaux: Baseball.
Kraekun: You bet!
Ribeaux: Hardy harr. Well, let's just say that one proposes that the ball was safe at home.
Kraekun: And the other, of course, disagrees.
Ribeaux: Precisely. Now one is right, and the other, wrong. Which is it.
Kraekun: The one who sides with the ump.
Ribeaux: No, no, no. It was a judgment call. Too close, and yet too far for most. Some said the umpire needed glasses, while the opposing team was all for his 20-20 vision.
Kraekun: But the ump is sanctified. He is a professional...accustomed to making judgment calls. It is what he does for a living, for God sakes. It's what he does.
Ribeaux: But there can only be one right and one wrong. So who is it.
Kraekun: The umpire. He's living it. He dies by it. He'll be fired if he makes too many wrong calls.
Ribeaux: So, you see, he can make a wrong call.
Kraekun: He's only human.
Ribeaux: And yet, ain't we all?
Kraekun: Well, there is Clapton.
Ribeaux: He's a ruddy guitarist. What does he know about baseball.
Kraekun: I bet he could sing a song about it.
Ribeaux: The fact is, somebody has to be right, and somebody wrong. Blues singers are all wrong.
Kraekun: Oh, now. Why'd you have to go and pick on blues singers. They are soulful, you know.
Ribeaux: So full of what?
Kraekun: They are full of soul.
Ribeaux: So was my Grandma's catfish pie, but I got news for ya...no one ever wanted to eat it twice.
Kraekun: Indigestion?
Ribeaux: Right down to to your very soul.
Kraekun: Well, you'll have that.
Ribeaux: Yeah, her pie was just wrong. Kinda like that nursery rhyme...four and twenty blackbirds...who ever heard of that?
Kraekun: Yeah, blackbird pie can't be very good...I've never had catfish pie, but now I think about it, it doesn't sound too appetizing.
Ribeaux: Damn full of bones. Tasted like the bottom of the lake.
Kraekun: Yikes. You know that ain't good.
Ribeaux: Nope. It was just wrong.
Kraekun: Sounds it.
Ribeaux: Well, listen, I gotta go. Try and ponder on that right and righteous thing, would ya? You might try applying it tomorrow.
Kraekun: Might make me sick. Like your Grandmother's pie. If I were to act righteous, people might think I was up to something.
Ribeaux: Something fishy.
Kraekun: Yeah. I'll try and live it and not "act" it. Goodnight Ribeaux.
Ribeaux: Sounds like a plan. Good night Kraekun.