“If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose,” the Walrus said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
—Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and The Carpenter
from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There
Tuesday, I swept the beach. That’s right, I swept the beach.
Some people claim that those who live in isolation eventually go crazy. I don’t know if that’s true (or, if it is true, if I could judge) but I know how nutty it is to sweep a beach. Quite apart from the futility of such activity, the whole idea of trying to impose order on Nature is contrary to my general outlook.
And yet, there I was, whisking feverishly away at the rocks with a broom, as mad as any of the denizens of Mr. Carrol’s Wonderland. Or, perhaps as circuitously logical as their mathematician creator wrote them? Continue reading
