Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Finite Rambunctions of a Lunatic Ego

There has bee a lot of speculation over the last couple of weeks over just who, in fact, the Good Doctor is. Myself. It is so hard to quantify. You can't pin him down in a sentence or two. Many a graduate student, in an attempt to write a thesis on this very subject, has found himself in a padded room, limited to a diet of lukewarm chicken broth and vitamin supplements, and in a few rare cases, an innability to comprehend spoken language...sometimes for years at a time.

There is a versimilitude inherent in his whole ego. He is by turns, a Boddhisatva, a Guru of unparalleled wisdom, a dilettante of incredible candor, a god (or at least considered by many gods to be a "really good guy" and worthy of "coming round for tea on occaision"), and an expert marksman.

What is he a Doctor of, you ask? Well, in some ways, it's a self-proclaymed tytle. He will be the first to admit that. However, the responsibility that demanded him to be the Good Doctor, was thrust upon him. He did not take it up lightly, or with anything short of the most abject humylity. This was not a voluntary act. But when the need arose, and there certainly was a need, he showed his almost infinite compassion towards the world and took up the Stethescope of Ambiguity and the Caduceus of Bipartisan Politics, and looked the world straight in the eye, stared right the most obscure and malicious corners of the human soul, the blackest, most loathsome scabs precariously situated over the festering wounds in the human spirit, and here he did not quake, my friends! Here he stood fast! And raised his arms in triumph, for all to see! For all to rejoyce and say, "YES! This is what it means, to tame the beast within! To sow the seeds of healing in an impoverished collective human spirit!"

And then the people knew. The Good Doctor was here to stay. He would fight their battles. He would warm their souls by the Snuggly Hearth of Ambiguous Certitude. "Sit by the fire," he says calmly. And there is nothing you can do, but curl up in a nice folding chair and listen as he imparts the True Wysdom that he alone possesses and can share. You feel comforted. There is a catharsis. It's small at first, but it grows within you over time, building slowly, rising to a tulmultuous, albeit mildly apprehensive, transfiguration of not only the dangerous bits of your mind, but very shallowest recesses of your soul.

And you start to feel better. You start to feel as though finally, after so many years of doubt and incongruity, you can finally settle down, relax, stopping worrying about all the piddling bits of basically pocket change problems, because the Good Doctor is here to take them upon himself.

A kind word, a friendly handshake, these are not the things that he offers. No, the Good Doctor offers a little of what he likes to call, The Ultimate Zen of Ambiguous Light. Let it illuminate your path forever.


Bdawg said...

I kinda want to be with you Dr. Kuha.

Dr Kuha said...

Bdawg, you'll always be right here, close to my heart. haha

Froyd said...

you forgot 'jackass' when you listed things that you were.

Dr Kuha said...

Whoa, whoa...The Good Doctor will not tolerate such insolence. I have sacrificed so much for the good of humanity, and here I am met with nothing but unnapreciative, puerile youngsters?

You, good sir, are a prat.

Dr Kuha said...

I am sorry. That last comment was misplaced. I must admit, than in a certain sense, you are right, Froydburger. I am a jackass. It would be foolish of me to deny such a blatant and self-evident fact. You see...all of us are jackasses. And we must all come to terms with that or be destroyed by our own stupidity