Getting Round To Arthur's Poem About Maths

Spinoza spins round.

Stop it at once, you lobster! he cries. Stop scratching my lens!

Ageless stops, and climbs down off the lens grinder.

Sorry, couldn't help myself, he says. It's my nature.

Spinoza is furious.

You did that on purpose, you monster! he cries.

Just proving you right, Mr Spin-ooza, says Ageless. Thought you'd be pleased.

Gaius tries a helpful diversion.

You say it's all about maths? he says to Spinoza.

What? Humph! Yes, says Spinoza.

But what if maths is not based on  logic? says Gaius, who is now up to Bertrand Russell in The Great Philosophers. You have no basis for your argument but intuition.

Spinoza calms down, and begins to think about this.

He takes a packet of mixed nuts out of his picnic basket and hands them around.

I wrote a poem about maths once, says Arthur, biting into a nut.

A poem, says Spinoza.

Yes, says Arthur. It was also about intuition.

Spinoza begins to cough. Cough! Cough!

A Brazil nut, he says apologetically. I didn't know you were a poet.

Arthur Rimbaud, says Arthur.

A man comes up wheeling a bicycle.

My bicycle! says The VeloDrone. Thanks for bringing it back. Did you go in the road race?

Yes, says the man. It was slow. No drugs. Everyone far too friendly. Give me archery any day. How did you go?

Oh, you know, says The VeloDrone. So-so. Here's your bow back.

Going to the Closing Ceremony? asks the man.

Don't know, says The VeloDrone. Who's on?

Icehouse, says the man. You've heard of  Icehouse?

A cool new band? asks Le Bon David.

The man laughs and walks off.

Give us your poem, Arthur, says Gaius. The one about maths.

Alright, says Arthur. Since you asked for it. It's called WAR.

That gets everyone's attention.