Sophisticated Thinking

Terence goes down to the seashore to look for Saint Roley.

With him goes the fearsome potato.

Beneath the spiky peduncles the potato looks slightly less happy.

It is afraid of the future.

Saint Roley is easy to find. He is standing in a crowd of sharptailed sandpipers.

They are discussing the importance of Ramsar, the global migratory bird habitat maintenance agreement.

Correction: they have already discussed it.

Thank goodness for that.

Terence tiptoes up, hoping to see a bird with red feathers.

No luck here.

Terence, says Saint Roley. What's that you're holding?

My red parrot potato, says Terence.

The sandpipers laugh.

It's not red, says Saint Roley. Is there a reason?

Yes, says Terence.

Wrong colour feathers, says a sandpiper. You should get a different potato.

No way, says Terence.

The sandpipers and Saint Roley confer.

Rednecked stints, suggests sandpiper. Aren't you blood brothers?

Not exactly, says Saint Roley. And they only have red necks when they're breeding.

Rednecked avocets, says another sandpiper.

Too tall, says a third. Forty six centimetres.

Krvee! says Saint Roley.

Terence doesn't think that's too tall.

He heads off to look for some avocets.

The potato is a burden.

Terence returns.

Look after my potato.

Sure, says Saint Roley.

He digs a shallow hole in the sand and drops the red parrot potato into it.

Sand fills the red parrot potato's wrinkles.

His lower peduncles jab into his soft white potato flesh.

Is this the future?

He is in need of a mentor.

But sometimes you have to be your own mentor.

The world is what it is.

This is sophisticated thinking for a potato.

Basically it's what Wittgenstein took years to come up with.