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Stalking Vol 2: The Bridge of Reason


"Which doesn’t make me responsible to explain what I know," she grinned, "but I am
because I’m teaching you now."
"What does a stalker mean when he says, ‘Hi, how are you,’ to another Stalker?"
She stared as if I was a stranger. Finally, she said, "They’d probably die laughing—or the
other Stalker would seek immediate medical attention for his friend."
Gathering my thoughts, I said, "Can you give me an example of reason versus logic in
assessing a neutral circumstance."
She looked at me as if I had said, "Pull my finger."
"Really, I’m not sure about anything right now."
"Why is that?"
"Because I just saw how using a person’s assumptions can sound like one thing, but mean
something else, or more… or whatever." I motioned the point aside to articulate my thoughts.
"This means I don’t know what the hell I’m really saying, even as I say it; my reason only thinks
I do," I said, spontaneously creating a separation between the two ways of thinking. "Shit… this
is what you mean by how a Stalker sees things!" I exclaimed as if I had discovered this on my
own. "Come on—give me another example!"
Shaking her head in amusement at my apparent solo discovery, Bonnie said, "It’s more
effective to experience the difficulty of escaping reason than it is to demonstrate logic. I can give
you an example of that."
"Go for it," I said, confidently.
Bonnie puckered, breathed deeply, and nodding slowly to herself said, "I’m going to offer a
riddle to your reason, which logic can easily solve. To help you as best I can," she said as I ate, "I
will tell you that it contains no subterfuge, no secret information, no assumptions you need to
properly make, nor tricks in the phrasing. I will contrive nothing to throw you off; there is no
question you need to ask for clarification, and no answer that will help you. Arriving at the
logical answer requires only that you ignore all of your conditioning and personal views, and
embrace the event as if you are from Mars—as is. In fact," she tittered, "hammering on these
conditions might become a reason for you to feel unsure, so I will end by saying there is no
information that will alter the nature of the event, and no justification I can use to have misled
you."
"So what’s the catch?"
"That’s my point," she laughed. "There is nothing I can say to make the resolution to the
riddle any clearer, and your reason still had to interfere with the problem." She tittered. "And
you’ll do it again."
"We’ll see."
Smothering a smile, Bonnie robotically said, "Eight men enter a room in which stands a
padded gurney. Beside this is an intravenous tube that runs underneath a cloth-covered table.
There are two syringes on the table top; you can see that only one of them is attached to the
intravenous tube, but by design which one is inactive is unknown to everyone including you."
She raised her brow.
"I’m good with that," I said.
"Five of the men are wearing identical khaki uniforms. The sixth man is dressed in a
business suit, the seventh in a white medical smock, and the eighth in a prisoner’s orange jump
suit." She tapped the table to stop me from getting lost in the descript ions. "The costumes mean
nothing; they are merely a way of distinguishing between individuals. Make them all naked, if
you like. It won’t change a thing."
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