Come Off! Come Off!

Nietzsche is keen to get started. But he doesn't have a pen.

Neither does Lauren.

Never mind. That won't stop Nietzsche.

I'll speak my thoughts, says Nietzsche. You listen. And if you understand what I'm saying, just nod.

Go ahead, says Lauren, her eye on the surfers.

I favour an affirmative approach to philosophy, says Nietzsche.

Lauren nods. Sweezus has made it out to the main group of surfers. So far so good.

The old philosophy traditions of knowledge, truth and free will are inventions, says Nietzsche.

Lauren nods vaguely. Sweezus is standing. No! He's moving in on another dude's wave!

The new philosopher must go beyond good and evil, says Nietzsche.

Oh dear, says Lauren. He shouldn't do that.

Just nod or don't nod, says Nietzsche. I don't need your opinion.

Lauren nods. Sweezus has come off his board. Just as well. There's a protocol.

The thing is, says Nietzsche, I need some sort of hook.

Lauren nods. He needs a hook. What's he talking about?

You look puzzled, says Nietzsche.

He's come off, says Lauren. I hope he's not cramping.

Come off! Come off! What does that mean? Like the tightrope walker? Like the Catcher, attempting to change his identity! Yes, the Catcher!

Thank you, Lauren, says Nietzsche. You've been wonderfully helpful. I have my hook. It's the Catcher.

The Catcher? says Lauren. Good heavens! We've left him up there in the café with Ageless. A disabled crab and a half blind lobster. Anything might happen!

What? asks Nietzsche.

In the CAFE! says Lauren.

She gets up and runs through the sand to the ramp leading up to the café.

She is magnificent! Nietzsche follows behind.

Café Bombora is full. But Ageless and the Catcher are no longer in it.

Lauren runs up to the counter.

A crab and a lobster? says the barista. I don't remember. I'll ask round the back.

The cook comes out.

This looks dire. The cook may have cooked them.

Don't tell me you've cooked them, says Lauren.

What sort of cook do you think I am? says the cook. I have my morality.

Nietzsche wonders how it works, his morality. Is it because they came in the front door and sat at a table? Or is it that they were imperfect? Foolish man. Why wouldn't he cook them?

He will never know.

Because the cook has news of the whereabouts of Ageless and the Catcher.

The cook: They went off with a really nice family. Mum and dad and two kiddies.

Lauren: Crikey! Where did they go?

The cook: I think they were going on one of those Spirit of the Coorong Cruises. One of the top things to do in Goolwa. Pricey though.

Lauren: I've heard of them. Thanks a million! Come on, Friedrich!

She dashes out of the Café Bombora, followed at a short distance by Friedrich Nietzsche, who still has his surf rash, and can't go all that quickly.

Vaseline Or Remember Your Mission

What happens happens.

Sweezus is right.

This is what happens.

He goes down to the beach, looks out to where Surfing-With-Whales is waiting on a wave with several group members and remembers the second best surfboard is back in the van.

And Nietzsche has gone back to the van with Lauren to see to his rash.

Better wait till they come out again.

He sits down on the sand facing the ramp, observing the van.

Nietzsche and Lauren emerge after several long minutes. Nietzsche first. He's walking funny.

Lauren spots Sweezus sitting down on the beach.

She knows what that means. He's waiting for a surfboard.

She makes the sign for: Do you want us to bring you one down?

Yeah, signs back Sweezus.

Lauren drags the board from the van and indicates one end to Nietzsche.

Nietzsche appears to be showing some reluctance. He points to his groin area, circumspectly.

Lauren flips the surfboard and presents him the pointy end.

He has little choice now but to take it.

They bring the board down the ramp together.

Ridiculoso! thinks Sweezus.

Here you are, Sweezie, says Lauren. Now you can go in. But maybe you shouldn't. You've just had that big burger.

Thanks, says Sweezus. Yeah, I'll wait a bit longer.

Good boy, says Lauren.

See? she says, turning to Nietzsche. HE takes my advice.

I took your advice, says Nietzsche.

Not really, says Lauren. You used the Vaseline. I recommended the aloe vera.

I didn't realise you were advising me against it, says Nietzsche.

I wasn't, says Lauren. It was your choice. What would you have used, Sweezie?

Huh? asks Sweezus, his eyes on a wave.

On a surf rash, says Lauren. Vaseline or aloe vera?

Oh yeah, aloe vera, says Sweezus. Vaseline's petroleum jelly. Bad for the eco. Bad for the sea.

I'm not going in again, says Nietzsche. And Vaseline is thicker.

Good choice then, says Sweezus, remembering his mission.

Nietzsche's moustache curves slightly upwards. This means he is smiling.

Go for it, Sweezus.

I was wondering, says Sweezus, if you'd be interested in writing a short piece for Velosophy?

What about? asks Lauren. I could write one on Reiki.

He meant me, says Nietzsche.

I could help you write it, says Lauren.

I write alone, says Nietzsche. Without any restrictions.

That's cool, says Sweezus. There's no restrictions. You can write about anything. Just so long as....

But Nietzsche is off on a roll now.

I shall write on this theme. Man is an experiment. Much error and ignorance has come forth in him.

I must say I agree with you there, says Lauren. If only they'd listen.

Sweezus can't wait any longer. The waves are increasing in size. His Big Burger is diminishing. He has sort of got an agreement from Nietzsche. The bicycle problem can wait. He gets up, grabs the second best surfboard and heads for the water.

There now, you see what I mean? says Lauren.

A Crushed Can Of Mother No Crumbs

Cafe Bombora.

Surfing-With-Whales stands up abruptly.

Heads for the door with three new group members.

Whales are finished, he says, passing his mother, and casting a dark eye on Nietzsche.

Oh, I hope not, says Lauren. I know some are Endangered. And others are Vulnerable or Insufficiently Known.

He may not have meant it in that sense, says Nietzsche.

I know, says Lauren. I was joking. Although it's not funny. He's in a bad mood for some reason. And I don't think he ate anything.

She gets up to examine her son's empty table.

Just one crushed can of Mother. No crumbs.

Sweezus stops chewing and watches Nietzsche eat his Tastiest Fishburger.

Looks like he's enjoying it.

He has mayo all through his moustache.

Maybe yeah, this might be the right time to ask him.

How's the Fishburger? asks Sweezus

Excellent, replies Nietzsche.

You were ace at surfing, says Sweezus.

Thank you, says Nietzsche.

I was wondering...... says Sweezus.

But I seem to have developed an unpleasant rash, says Nietzsche.

Should've worn a rashie, mutters Sweezus.

Damn. Missed the moment. Nietzsche looks gloomy again.

Lauren returns to the table. Did I hear rashie? Has someone got a rash?

I have, says Nietzsche.

Poor you, says Lauren. Come back to the van and I'll put something on it.

Nietzsche looks hopeful.

They get up and go.

Sweezus is left with the injured Ageless and the disabled Catcher.

Vulnerable, says the Catcher

Insufficiently Known, says Ageless.

What're you talking about? asks Sweezus.

Whales, says the Catcher. Didn't you hear?

Wasn't listening, says Sweezus.

Put something on it, says the Catcher. Lovey dovey.

Ha ha, says Ageless bitterly. Only if you're HUMAN.

But Sweezus is floating along his own stream of consciousness, not registering the complaints of his charges.

Sweezus's thoughts (as they come) : jeez he's a sensitive bugger, now i'll have to wait till lauren creams him up before i can ask him, what'll i say?.... hey friedy, ha ha friedy how's about writing a few words for velosophy, anything you like as long as it's got a bicycle in it, bicycle, yeah, wonder if surfing-with-whales is gonna ride in the tour this year, he's in a foul mood must be his mum or something shit he's nearly my age get the fuck over it, those new boardies were cool hey i wonder if after she's washed em....if he doesn't want them, yeah... but.... do I?  woah looks like he's heading out there with those other guys maybe i'll go with them shit better not after that massivo big bombora beef burger brrp....haah.... it was heaps nice though, and yeah anyway what happens happens .......

Looks like Sweezus might be about to do something foolish.

A Leg Or A Smelling Organ?

How are you feeling? asks Lauren.

Strangely relaxed, replies Nietzsche.

Lauren helps him up from the sand.

Let's get you up to the cliff top and out of those shorts, says Lauren. They're a little worse for wear after your adventure.

Sweezus grabs his friend's third best surfboard, and picks up the Catcher.

Ageless trundles up the ramp behind them, seeing little, smelling nothing.

Surfing-With-Whales is waiting at the top.

Still a few whales out there, says Surfing-With-Whales. That means I can't take another group out.

Let's all go to Cafe Bombora, says Lauren. We can have something to eat, and Friedrich can get his strength back.

Nietzsche looks down at his wet borrowed board shorts. He feels he is getting a rash.

Lauren remembers.

Oh yes, Bob, and your new shorts have got a bit ruined, says Lauren. But I'll wash them. They'll be just like new.

Don't bother, mum, says Surfing-With-Whales. I never liked them anyway.

Nonsense Bob! You know you LOVED them! says his mother.

But Surfing-With-Whales has already headed off towards Cafe Bombora. And buggered if he's going to sit anywhere near MUM and that tosser Nietzsche.

.....

Nietzsche has changed back into his chinos (behind a convenient towel).

He enters Cafe Bombora, with Lauren.

Surfing-With-Whales is at a table in the corner, with some potential group members.

Sweezus is at another table with Ageless, and the Catcher.

Lauren and Nietzsche join Sweezus, and see for the first time the damage the battle has caused.

They ARE in the wars, says Lauren. The Blue Swimmer crab's lost a leg. Will he grow another one?

The Catcher does not like being talked about in the third person.

None of your business, says the Catcher.

What do I smell? says Ageless.

The Legendary Big Bombora Beef Burger, says Sweezus, whose order has arrived. Woo! How awesome is it?

Actually, says Ageless, my smelling organ is damaged. I can't smell a thing.

I would rather have a leg than a smelling organ, says the Catcher.

Interesting, says Lauren. I think I would say the same. What about you, Friedrich?

Leg, says Nietzsche.

I can't SEE very well either, says Ageless. At least HE will grow another. I may be permanently blind. I shall never more set eyes on my beloved......

One eye, says the Catcher. Never more set ONE eye on your beloved.

Lauren thinks it's high time to change the subject.

What are you having, Friedrich? I'm having the Fishburger.

Nietzsche decides to try the Fishburger as well. It is described as the Tastiest Fishburger on the Coast.

Let's see then.

They wait for the Fishburgers. The conversation switches to whales.

That one that breached earlier, says Lauren, I'm pretty sure it was a Sperm Whale. It had the white patches.

It was, says the Catcher. I caught it. I should know.

Sperm Whale? says Nietzsche, shifting uncomfortably, but remembering he is back in his chinos.. You caught one?

Oh yes, says the Catcher. I can catch anything. My next assignment is catching a frog for Gaius. A Bauble.

A Baw Baw, says Sweezus.

Thank you says the Catcher. Of course, it will be much harder to catch a Baw Baw with only one swimming leg.....

Luckily, this is the moment the Tastiest Fishburgers arrive, and the conversation ceases.

It Works On A Spiritual Level

Surfing-With-Whales has been scanning the ocean for signs of a second whale breaching.

But Lauren has kept her binoculars focussed on Nietzsche.

He has caught a large wave. He is upright. Moving forward. What a hero. He disappears momentarily inside the massive wave tunnel.

( It's a rare wave for Goolwa).

Weeeooow! The surfboard leaps out of the tunnel, spins in the air, and drops into the spume.

Where is Nietzsche!

There he is, struggling in the water. The wave has passed on.

Nietzsche stops struggling.

Is he dead?

No. He bobs up and down for several seconds, inanimately. Then, wonder of wonders, he begins to float gently shorewards as one who is favoured by sea nymphs.

A sobering sight.

Lauren elbows her son, whose eye is fixed on the horizon, seeing nothing.

What? says Surfing-With-Whales.

Get down there, says Lauren.

But Sweezus is down there already.

He pulls Nietzsche out of the water.

Nietzsche coughs. He doesn't look well.

Woah man! Thought you were a goner! says Sweezus.

The surfboard floats in. Ageless lobster and the Catcher cling to it.

They stagger ashore. Which is particularly hard for the Catcher.

Sweezus shakes his head.

What a total, total fuckup.

How's he supposed to ask Nietzsche for anything now?

Lauren hurries over.

Oh Friedrich! Are you all RIGHT?

Nietzsche stares at her blankly.

Concussion, says Lauren. Don't worry, I know what to do.

She performs several mysterious Level Two hand movements over Nietzsche.

She isn't supposed to touch him. There is absolutely no need. Reiki works on a spiritual level.

But there is a little frond of seaweed on his shorts.

Her hand brushes over the seaweed. It appears to be stuck there. She rubs harder. It comes off eventually.

Ach! Nietzsche sits up, very quickly.

You Are Better ThanThat

Ageless lobster is strong, but the Catcher is younger.

Locked in a murderous embrace they drift slowly upwards.

( Like Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty, falling down Reichenbach Falls, but in the opposite direction)

They break the surface just as Nietzsche surmounts the last breaker.

He spies the two enemies fighting.

Stop! cries Nietzsche. You are better than that!

Nietzsche is proud of this sentence.  He has used it a lot, although generally with little effect.

Ptich! spits the Catcher, ripping at Ageless. I may be better than that, but he isn't!

This is what quite often happens.

Ageless takes advantage of the Catcher's momentary lapse of attention.

He reaches behind the Catcher and snaps off his swimming leg.

Yeow! cries the Catcher.

The Catcher pokes Ageless wildly in the rostrum. Then yanks his antennule.

Pax! cries Ageless. Pax, Portunus! I am blinded and smell-impaired now!

Foolishly, the Catcher stops pulling. Ageless lunges forward and bites off his testes.

Nietzsche is close now. One hand could stop this. But he will try words one more time.

Go apart, and seek solitude my brothers, says Nietzsche.

Wunderbar! Ageless and the Catcher drift apart.

Thank you, says the Catcher.

Thank you, says Ageless.

It was nothing, says Nietzsche.

It WAS nothing.

They were not thanking him, but each other.

Would you like a lift back to shore on my surfboard? asks Nietzsche.

Yes, they would, please.

He lifts them up.

Ageless, with his injured rostrum and antennule. The Catcher, with only one swimming leg, and no testes.

Nietzsche starts paddling. He looks up towards the cliff where Lauren and the others are watching.

How fine it would be if, instead of paddling, he caught a big wave in.

He stops and looks behind him. Yes, a big wave is coming.

Don't do it! advises Ageless.

Yes, don't do it, says the Catcher. I wouldn't.

I intend to try, says Nietzsche. Nothing ventured.....

The wave is very close now. Nietzsche stands.

Wobbles.

Surges forward.

..........

See that ! says Lauren.

What? I didn't see anything, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Red Sparks Of Vengeance

As the humans head for the shore, the second whale breaches, performs a neat body roll and disappears under the water.

He sinks down... down.... down..... to the spot where the Humpback is facing the Catcher.

Oowaoohh! moans the second whale.

The Humpback turns slowly. Owh! Hoo?

Catcher notices that the second whale is different.

The second whale is a Sperm Whale. Black to brownish grey with white patches on the mouth and the belly. A huge square head, and skin that is heavily wrinkled.

Is this usual? asks the Catcher.

Is what usual? asks the Humpback.

Inter-whale communication, says the Catcher.

He hasn't said anything, says the Humpback.

He said Oowaoohh, says the Catcher.

Oowaoohh! says the Sperm.

This is exceedingly vexing, for the Humpback.  He can't understand what the Sperm Whale is saying. But the Sperm Whale has understood the Catcher.

.......

Surfing-With-Whales and Sweezus have just reached the shallows, when Sweezus says:

Shit!

What? asks Surfing-With-Whales.

Ageless! says Sweezus. He was with me. Now he isn't.

I wouldn't worry, says Surfing-With-Whales. No great loss, dude.

This is one way of looking at it.

Sweezus examines it from an ethical standpoint.

Yeah. Surfing-With-Whales might be right.

But Nietzsche, who has surfed in on a wave (how clever!) close behind them, has been thinking:

( mainly about how this all might be appearing to Lauren):

Yes, she will have seen him surf in on a wave ( how quickly he learns things!), but he has come in empty handed. He had paddled out to rescue the Catcher. And what had prevented him? A man-made RULE about not getting too near the whales.

Nietzsche turns and paddles out again. Thus decides Zarathustra.

.........

Ageless has slipped off Sweezus's surfboard not far from the whales and the Catcher.

He has sunk down...down...down.

He is planning to watch the demise of the Catcher.

He spots the two whales.

And the Catcher, gesticulating.

The conversation goes on for a long time.

Finally the Catcher nods at the Sperm Whale, who dives down to the seabed.

Then he waves ( which is easier ) at the Humpback, who slowly surfaces, and performs a tail lob, a pec slap, two blows and a body roll. Bravo!

It seems the whale confrontation is over.

Ageless undulates across to the Catcher.

You lost them both, says Ageless. Too bad.

On the contrary, says the Catcher. They belong to me now. And I have temporarily released them.

Devil take the Catcher! Making up his own facts! Ageless's eyes emit red sparks of vengeance.

He advances on the Catcher, claws at the ready........

The Politics Of Cool

The Catcher, down below in the water, imagines the above conversation.

Sweezus: Found him yet?

Surfing-With-Whales: Not yet, man. Let's spread out and search. I'll dive here. You dive over there.

Nietzsche: Where would you like me to go?

But this is not what is happening.

In an ideal world perhaps it would be. But in an ideal world, Nietzsche would have had his own board shorts.

Surfing-With-Whales is astonished to see Nietzsche wearing his new board shorts. At least, part of him hopes they are his.

Even more unthinkable would be that mister smarty philosopher chino-pants had bought the same type of Billabongs.

Hey man, says Surfing-With-Whales, fishing for an explanation. Nice shorts!

Oh yes, I hope you don't mind. These are yours. Your mother......

Bloody MUM, that'd be right!

Woah, chill, dude, says Sweezus. He could hardly paddle out in his chinos.

They're my NEW ones, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Nice, says Sweezus, looking at them properly.

Nietzsche determines to brazen it out.

At first, says Nietzsche, I thought there was something wrong with them.

Yeah? say both Sweezus and Surfing-With-Whales.

Yes, says Nietzsche. One side is not the same as the other. No doubt you've noticed.

It's why they're cool, says Sweezus.

Yeah, says Surfing-With-Whales. Anyone would know that.....

Lauren explained it to me, says Nietzsche.

Lauren! He's calling her Lauren.

Melted Lo Tides, says Surfing-With-Whales, through gritted teeth.

The ones you're wearing now are the same on both sides, observes Nietzsche.

These are Belongils, says Surfing-With-Whales, witheringly.

Sweezus is beginning to think he ought to pay more attention to his own surf wear. What's he got on? His heaps ancient Bender Mash boardies with orange tigers and black panthers, which are so faded you can hardly see them .....

At this point the second whale surfaces behind them.

Sweezus spots it first.

Woa! A whale!

The members of Surfing-With-Whales' group paddle up to him.

A whale! Massive! Awesome! Dude, what do we do?

Unfortunately, says Surfing-With-Whales, we have to keep 300 metres away from it.

Bugger.

Everyone paddles for the shore.

........

Under the sea, the Catcher is relieved to see the legs disappearing.

Good. Now to get serious.

And now there are two whales to choose from......

Knobs On His Head And A Bad Memory

Whale! Whale! the cry goes up from the cliff top.

Yes, it looks like a whale!

It is at this point that we might choose to change our perspective.

We might even go backwards, just slightly, in time......

Ten minutes ago, (which is NOW from our new changed perspective):

The Catcher is perched on the tip of Surfing-With-Whales's surfboard, scanning for whales in the water.

Surfing-With-Whales is waiting for a wave.

The Catcher spots what he thinks is a whale, and slips off the surfboard.

Surfing-With-Whales, who is looking behind him ( for a wave)  notices a difference in balance.

He turns.

The Catcher is gone.

The Catcher sinks down into the water. Waving his dominant claw, twisting his eye stalks.

He was right. There is a whale.

The whale is a small one. Maybe a Humpback, (listed as vulnerable).

He remembers the advice of Surfing-With-Whales at the outset.

"Whales don't give a shit".

This advice seems to be wrong.

The Humpback, dark brown with white on his flippers, flanks and belly, knobs on top of his head, and extremely long pectoral fins, comes right up to the Catcher.

Portunus?

Woop! How does he know what I'm called!

Yes...? answers the Catcher, in a tentative manner.

Word gets around, says the Humpback. I'm the delegated messenger. Listen up.

I'm all ears, says the Catcher.

Snort! snorts the Humpback.

Is that it? says the Catcher, feeling bolder.

NO! snaps the Humpback. This is the message. It's a message from all of whale-kind.

Rubbish, says the Catcher. You can't possibly represent all of whale-kind!

The message, says the Humpback.... the message....werp! I've forgotten the message!

Was it a message for me? asks the Catcher.

Yes, as far as I remember, says the Humpback. A message for you.

Then I can probably help you, says the Catcher. Was it: A Blue Swimmer Crab is forbidden to try and catch a whale?

THAT WAS IT! says the Humpback.

I'm afraid I shall have to ignore it, says the Catcher.

He is about to explain his reasons, backing them up with pertinent quotations from Nietzsche (on self realisation, will to power, moral courage, etcetera) when:

Time's up. The past catches up with the present.

The legs of Sweezus and Nietzsche appear overhead, breaking the surface above the Humpback whale and the Catcher.

The legs appear to be talking.

Or rather, the legs appear to belong to men who are talking.

How? It's the angle.

Two more legs rock up.

Surfing-With-Whales' legs.

More talking.

Yes, time is running out for the Catcher.

If he doesn't catch his whale soon, his whale-catching attempt will be foiled.

....

But wait! Aren't the people on the cliff top seeing a whale at the surface?

And the Humpback is still down below.

Well, there could be another one.

Dancing On The Volcano

This Catcher, is he one of the group? asks Lauren.

No way! pants Sweezus. He's a Blue Swimmer.

So, Bob won't be liable? asks Lauren.

Bob? Sweezus looks blank.

Surfing-With-Whales, says Lauren. I'm his MOTHER. Bob's his real name. You know that, dear,

Yeah, but.. says Sweezus... anyway, I came back to get Nietzsche.

Me? says Nietzsche. What do you think I can do?

Help us find him, says Sweezus. Any more boards in the van?

Yes, of course, dear, I'll just get one, says Lauren.

Off she goes, stumbling over Ageless who is still upended.

Help me! says Ageless.

Sweezus turns him over and sets him upright.

So, says Ageless, the Catcher has carked it. What a terrible shame that is.

Don't worry, says Sweezus. We'll find him.

Click-click...will you? says Ageless. Then I'm coming with you.

Good man, says Sweezus.

Does that mean I don't have to, says Nietzsche. If he is?

No it doesn't, says Sweezus. But hey, you can't paddle out there in chinos. Wanna take 'em off?

I can't possibly, says Nietzsche. There are people about, and my underwear....

Lauren comes back with Bob's third best surfboard and a large pair of board shorts.

Put these on, says Lauren.

Where? asks Nietzsche.

Here, says Lauren. Do you want me to hold up a towel?

Thank you, Lauren, says Nietzsche.

Yes, he has decided to do it! In his mind he is already there, out on the water, halfway over the tightrope....living dangerously, dancing on the slopes of the volcano....

Lauren holds up a towel.

Nietzsche takes off his pants.

Scheise! Thank Providence for the towel! These underpants haven't seen a laundry for weeks....
Now for the shorts.....

Okay behind there? Do they fit you? asks Lauren.

She is itching to see.

Yes they are fitting, says Nietzsche. Is it normal that one side is not the same as the other?

Yes yes, quite normal. says Lauren. It's the fashion. They're Bob's new Billabongs, but I'm sure he won't mind.

She lowers the towel, as though accidentally, while in the process of talking.

Ooh! Sorry.

Nietzsche hitches the Billabong's up a bit higher, and ties up the cord.

He looks fantastic.

At least that's Lauren's opinion.

She waves encouragingly, as Nietzsche, Sweezus and Ageless head back to the water, to rescue the Catcher.

She settles down on her seat. Opens the thermos. Pours herself a Rooibos. Raises her binoculars.

Gazes out to sea.

There they are, getting smaller and smaller, getting closer to Bob, and the rest of his group. Heads down looking into the water.......so tiny... they look like seabirds searching for food.....

.......but what's that dark lumpy object, heaving up just beyond them?

Clash Of The Titan Philosophers

Nietzsche doesn't seem all that interested in Lauren's fluke chart.

To him all the flukes look the same.

No, no, says Lauren, see this one. This is the Southern Right whale's fluke. It's different from that of the Humpback. The Humpback's fluke goes down more in the middle. And it's white with dark patches. Whereas.....

But Nietzsche is gazing out to sea.

He can see Sweezus sitting out there beyond the breakers, alongside Surfing-With-Whales.

Surfing-With-Whales is pointing towards the horizon.

Lauren tries again, to get Nietzsche's attention.

So, tell me about yourself, says Lauren. Sweezus said you were a philosopher?

Yes, says Nietzsche. That is my calling.

How INTERESTING, says Lauren. And what philosophies have you come up with?

What a question! Nietzsche attempts to put his ideas in a nutshell.

Basically, says Nietzsche, taking a chip from Lauren's packet, it's a matter of self realisation, hindered by the idea of eternal recurrence, and then I rashly claimed God was dead, which some people took the wrong way, but I do believe Christianity is a hypocritical creed encouraging a slave mentality, and on the positive side I think all human action is an expression of the will to power. Yes, and I firmly believe one should never drink alcohol.

My, says Lauren. That's a lot to think about. Have another chip. I can't eat this many. I agree with you about alcohol. Perhaps you could talk to my son. He's okay during the week but on the weekend.....!

No, I won't interfere, says Nietzsche. I'm here as a guest. I'm supposed to be resting, and calming myself with whale watching. However it all seems rather pointless ......

You know what you need? says Lauren.

No, I don't, admits Nietzsche.

Reiki, says Lauren. It works wonders. I happen to be a Level Two practitioner. Would you like me to give you a treatment? Don't worry, I don't need to touch you. Level Twos can do distance Reiki.

No thank you, says Nietzsche. But thanks for the offer.

He stares out to sea.

Surfing-With-Whales is paddling out towards the horizon. Sweezus is coming in on a wave.

We Reiki practitioners have our own philosophy, says Lauren. Shall I list the Five Principles?

Go ahead, says Nietzsche.

Just for today, I will not worry ( says Lauren)
Just for today, I will not be angry
Just for today, I will be grateful
Just for today, I will do my work honestly
Just for today, I will be kind to every living creature.

Nietzsche is about to deconstruct each of these irritating Principles when Sweezus races up the ramp saying: We've lost the Catcher!

I knew it! croaks Ageless, triumphant.

Who's the Catcher? asks Lauren, grabbing the binoculars from Ageless, and knocking him sideways.

A Matter Of Life And Death Which It Isn't

Hello! says Lauren Swales. I saw you down on the beach. Come and sit with me. I'm whale watching. But no luck so far!

She pats the seat, on which she is sitting.

Hi Lauren! says Sweezus. Sorry, can't! Got to get back down there. Can you grab me a board from the van?

Oh, okay, says Lauren. What about your friend though?

She beams encouragingly at Nietzsche.

Nietzsche is encouraged.

But not that much.

First he must unwrap her wrappings.

Who knows? She may be just like his mother. Or his dreadful sister, Elisabeth......on the other hand, she may be like Lou......

This is Friedrich Nietzsche, says Sweezus. The philosopher. He's into whale watching...

Untrue! People tell lies all the time! An eternal recurrence!

Calm down, calm down, Friedrich.

Is something wrong, Friedrich? asks Lauren. Sit down here and pour yourself a mug of Rooibos from my thermos. I'll be back in a jiffy. Help yourself to a chip!

She heads off to the van, drags out her son's second best surfboard and hands it to Sweezus, who then races down the ramp to the beach, enters the water, and starts paddling as if it were a matter of life and death which it isn't.

That's him, though.

She returns to the seat, and Friedrich Nietzsche.

What's the matter, can't you open it? asks Lauren.

I normally drink only water, says Nietzsche.

Very sensible, says Lauren. But Rooibos is caffeine free. And it's hot so it warms up your cockles.

She laughs trillingly, in an indecipherable manner.....

She opens the thermos with a flippant twist of the wrist, and pours him a Rooibos.

It's hot and red. He finds it acceptable.

Want to see my fluke chart? asks Lauren.

She bends forward to rummage in her voluminous bag.

This is when she spots Ageless, sitting next to her bag. He has commandeered her binoculars.

He is scanning the ocean, and muttering.

She knows Ageless, from previous encounters, and ignores him.

She pulls out her fluke chart, hoping to interest the moustachioed philosopher.

All There Is To Know About Whales

Sweezus and Nietzsche wheel their bicycles onto the beach.

Sweezus spots Surfing-With-Whales out beyond the breakers.

Several people bob about near him.

That's him, says Sweezus. Wish I had a board. I'd be out there.

Just then, Surfing-With-Whales catches a wave. It's a biggy.

Shweeeersh! he skids up the wet sand and comes to a halt without falling.

That's not easy.

Hey, man! says Surfing-With-Whales.

Hey! says Sweezus. Awesome ride! Any whales out there?

Nothing, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Nietzsche looks relieved.

I see you've brought lunch, says Surfing-With-With-Whales, spotting the Catcher in Sweezus's pocket.

Shit no, says Sweezus. This is the Catcher.

What about this one? says Surfing-With-Whales.

This is Friedrich Nietzsche. He's here for a spot of whale watching, says Sweezus.

I didn't mean him, says Surfing-With-Whales. I meant the lobster.......oh hang on.....it's Ageless.

Nietzsche is not used to being noticed last, at the end of a long line of seafood.

Is it his moustache?

Surfing-With-Whales now turns his attention to Nietzsche.

Cool moustache, says Surfing-With-Whales.

So, if it isn't the moustache, what is it?

Pleased to meet you, says Nietzsche. I believe you are an expert in whales.

Yeah, says Surfing-With-Whales. I know one or two things.

He's being modest, says Sweezus. He knows all there is to know about whales.

Good, says the Catcher. Which ones are the most friendly?

None of them are friendly, says Surfing-With-Whales. They don't give a shit. My advice is, don't go near 'em.

My advice too, agrees Ageless. But the Catcher has vowed to catch one.

I have, says the Catcher.

No kidding? says Surfing-With-Whales. A Blue Swimmer, catch a whale. Like that's going to happen! Okay, who's coming out with me?

Me, says Sweezus. I just need a board.

Mum's up there on the cliff, says Surfing-With-Whales. Ask her to give you one out of the van.

Lauren? What's she doing here? asks Sweezus.

Whale spotting, says Surfing-With-Whales. Take mister chino-pants up there with you. She might lend him her binoculars. And show him her chart. It's got pictures of all the different tail flukes and flippers. Helps to identify 'em. Pity there's not any here.

He turns back to the ocean.

Take me with you, says the Catcher. My quest can wait no longer.

Prrrrt! opines Ageless, rudely.

Okay, says Surfing-With-Whales. Come on. You've got balls, Catcher.

Sweezus and Nietzsche wheel their bikes up the ramp to the top of the cliff, where Lauren Swales is sitting with binoculars, hot chips and a thermos.

She has seen Sweezus already. She really likes Sweezus. One of the better class of friends that her son has. Not like some others. Now she spots Nietzsche. Oh! Have all her Christmases come at once?  What a GLORIOUS manly moustache!

He Is Yourself As You Might Be

Goolwa appears in the distance, just as Nietzsche is speaking of distance.

A synchronicity lost on his listeners.

Have you got that right? asks Sweezus.

Love the distant, says Nietzsche. That's right. Not your neighbour, but the Superman, the man of the future. He is yourself, as you might be.

I don't remember that, says Sweezus. What page is it on?

Page sixty three, says Nietzsche. Penguin Classics.

Uh. I haven't got up to there yet, says Sweezus.

Nietzsche frowns.

What about the neighbours? asks Ageless, who normally cares nothing for neighbours.

Man's love of his neighbour is his bad love of himself, says Nietzsche.

Heavy, says Sweezus.

They cycle towards Goolwa in silence.

Nietzsche is miffed. Sweezus hasn't even got up to page sixty three of Thus Spake Zarathustra.

Sweezus is puzzling over the meaning of bad love of himself.

Ageless is looking over the edge of Nietzsche's basket at the Catcher. How he hates the Catcher.

The Catcher has learned something useful.

Love the Distant. The Superman, yourself as you could be.

Do not tremble at the thought of what's coming.

(What's coming is WHALES. And he has committed to catch one).

Well then.

Bring it on.

.........

The cyclists arrive in Goolwa.

Now to find Surfing-With-Whales.

Sweezus calls his number.

I'm on Goolwa Beach, says Surfing-With-Whales. Just about to take a group out. Come down.

........

The beach is long and wide. The surf is crashing. A fine salt spray mists the pale air......

Surfing-With-Whales is standing in the centre of a small group of people.

He is giving them a preliminary lecture.

First of all, says Surfing-With-Whales, I want to make one thing clear. We can't go near any whales.

Aww, says a group member.

But the good news is, says Surfing-With-Whales, that it's early in the season.

Why is that good news? asks another group member.

There probably won't be any whales, says Surfing-With-Whales.

Wait a minute, says a third group member. What are we paying for? Aren't we supposed to be surfing with whales?

Not exactly, says Surfing-With-Whales. You're surfing with Surfing-With-Whales. That's me. And I HAVE been surfing with whales. Now, is everyone okay with that?

No one is, really, at first, but the surf looks kind of awesome, and it sort of makes sense not to go near the whales and there might not be any, so....yeah. Okay.

They head for the surf.

Which is what usually happens.

You Are Weighing Me Down

How far to Goolwa? asks Nietzsche.

About forty, says Sweezus. We can do that in an hour.

Glad you think so, says Nietzsche.

Try singing, says Ageless. Or reciting a poem.

I can do without your advice, says Nietzsche. You are one of the superfluous many-too-many. You are weighing me down. I have a mind to......

Sheez, I'm sorry! says Sweezus. You're so awesome at riding, I keep forgetting you've never done it before.

Perhaps we could take another break soon, says Nietzsche.

Yeah right, says Sweezus. You don't know this part of the country.

He is saying this simply to discourage Nietzsche from stopping.

It works.

There are dangers? asks Nietzsche.

Drop bears, says Sweezus.

They drop from the trees onto the unsuspecting, says Ageless.

Nietzsche doesn't like the sound of drop bears.

I shall recite something, says Nietzsche. From my favourite poet.

Who's your favourite poet? asks Sweezus.

Holderlin, says Nietzsche.

Never heard of him, says Sweezus. Is he German?

Was, says Nietzsche.

Go on then, says Sweezus.

Nietzsche recites the Song of Hyperion:

A place of rest
isn't given to us.
Suffering humans
decline and fall
blindly from one hour to the next
like water thrown
from cliff to cliff
year after year
down into the Unknown.

Shit a brick! says Sweezus. That's depressing.

(Maybe so, but now they are closer to Goolwa).

A Saint And A Goose

Early afternoon, in the country. Sunlight dapples through eucalyptus, over wheat stubble and all round the sheep.

Sweezus and Nietzsche have already passed Mylor.

Nietzsche is puffing.

Going okay? asks Sweezus. We'll take a break in Meadows.

Nietzsche has mastered the vernacular, as well as the bicycle.

Yes, I am going okay.

If he didn't have that superfluous lobster in his basket, things would be even better.

Ageless is enjoying the sun on his carapace.

He glances sideways at Sweezus, who is pedalling steadily.

Yes, there is the Catcher, just visible in Sweezus's pocket, when his left leg goes down.

Catcher! croaks Ageless.

What? asks the Catcher.

Will you renounce her?

No, says the Catcher. You were cruel. She loves me.

You don't understand our relationship, says Ageless.

Only too well, says the Catcher.

Is this about a woman? asks Nietzsche. Let me give you some advice.

Pah! says Ageless. What is it?

The earth shakes with convulsions when a saint and a goose mate together, says Nietzsche.

Is that you or Schopenhauer? asks Sweezus.

Me, says Nietzsche. I have mastered this bicycle.

So, says Sweezus. A saint and a goose. Which one is the woman?

The goose, says Ageless. Don't you worry, I get it. My Kobo is soft and creamy, like a goose on the inside soft white and creamy click click prrrr.........

The Catcher is furious.

No one speaks of his woman like that!

Silence, except for the sounds of sheep chomping and the rhythmic rustle of board shorts and chinos on pedalling legs.....

Luckily, a few minutes later, they reach Meadows.

They stop at a café for pies, and sparkling water.

I don't usually eat pies, says Nietzsche.

Me either, says Sweezus.

They sit outside at a table under an umbrella, eating chunky beef pies.

Ageless has stayed in the basket thinking his own thoughts.

Catcher is catching flakes of pie crust, as they drop by his pocket.

I always enjoy the country, says Nietzsche. I lived in the Swiss Alps for a long time.

How come? asks Sweezus.

Mainly to get away from my mother, says Nietzsche.

I know what you mean, agrees Sweezus.

But I did a great deal of thinking, says Nietzsche.

Is that when you came up with the goose thing? asks Sweezus.

Yes, says Nietzsche. And the idea of the superman. And of superfluous people.

Shit yeah, says Sweezus. Overpopulation, man, I get that. Too many people.

He has already forgotten the goose thing.

Self-Overcoming

Gaius enters the kitchen, to find Kobo clam in the clutches of the Catcher, and Ageless demanding:

Release my beloved!

Then the plaintive voice of Kobo:

Ageless, he saved me from YOU!

I did not kick you, my beloved, says Ageless. I hope you don't think so.

You knocked me, says Kobo. It's the same in the end. I fell, and your friend the Catcher has caught me. Mmm. I now love the Catcher.

Wo! cries Ageless. You can't possibly love old Portunus. I shall kill myself.

Gaius feels the need for some sort of intervention.

The Catcher is going to Goolwa, says Gaius. To spot whales with Nietzsche and Sweezus. I believe he is leaving immediately.

( That's the best way to deal with a love triangle, he always finds ).

Humm, says Kobo. Please return me to the sill. I was reading a novel.

Gaius returns her to the sill.

Stupid novel, says Ageless. That was why I kicked her, she wouldn't respond.

What is the novel? asks Gaius, interested that there should be such an engrossing novel.

How should I know, says Ageless.

Mmmmmurakami! says Kobo, before settling back down to read.

Gaius goes back outside with Ageless and the Catcher.

Nietzsche is standing beside the Platonic Ideal.

So what are you saying? asks Sweezus.

I believe in self-overcoming, says Nietzsche. Not in minimising desire in order to achieve tranquility. I have no idea why I said it.

It's the same thing, says Sweezus.

No it isn't, says Nietzsche. Not the way I mean it. I'm talking about the will to power. Overcoming stupid moral precepts. Becoming who we really are.

Yes, I was meaning to warn you, says Gaius. That bicycle has unaccountable powers. Anyone who rides it begins to spout Schopenhauerian nonsense.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it was nonsense, says Nietzsche.

Then you shouldn't have any trouble, says Gaius. I had no end of it.

Just so long as I know, says Nietzsche. Well, shall we be going?

Yeah, says Sweezus. It'll take us a couple of hours. Maybe three. We'll go via Meadows.

How delightful, says Gaius. I almost wish I was going with you. I hope you see one or two whales.

Should do, says Sweezus. We're gonna hook up with Surfing-With-Whales. Get right out there with 'em.

Nietzsche looks alarmed. This is the first he has heard of that sort of activity.

Very good, says Nietszche, overcoming himself with an effort.

And I assume you are taking the Catcher, says Gaius. Let me know how he goes. I might have a use for him later.

Yeah, okay, says Sweezus. Come on, Catcher.

He lifts up the Catcher.

And me, says Ageless. I've decided to .... click click.... join the party.

He shoots a dagger-like look at the Catcher, who once was his buddy, now is his rival, and tragically therefore

must die.

The Universe Is Not Balanced

The Catcher draws Ageless aside.

I'd appreciate it if you'd keep mum, says the Catcher. My new identity....

Of course! cries Ageless, slapping the back of the Catcher. Not a word! New identity eh? How's it going?

Not bad, says the Catcher. It's just....the diet. My first catch was a parrot. I threw up immediately.

Chew slowly, says Ageless. That's my advice. What's next on the agenda?

Whales, says the Catcher. We're going to Goolwa.

You may have bitten off more than you can chew, says Ageless. Ha ha. Did you get that, old buddy? Bitten off  more.....hee hee. I must tell Kobo.

He scuttles away.

So, you know Ageless, says Gaius.

No, says the Catcher.

We all heard what you were saying, says Sweezus. We know you know Ageless.

All right, says the Catcher. But not very well.

Perhaps you should get to know him better, says Nietzsche. He gave good advice. Chew slowly.

Is that what you do? asks Sweezus.

Yes, says Nietzsche. Don't you?

Never thought about it, says Sweezus. What's the point of chewing slowly? Food turns to mush.

The digestion, says Gaius. One must always take care of one's digestion.

Exactly, says Nietzsche. I only drink water.

You had a long macchiato, says Sweezus.

Coffee spreads darkness, says Nietzsche. And I feel dark now. I USUALLY only drink water.

He grimaces, like a man about to have an eternal recurrence.

Very wise, says Gaius. Would you like a cup of tea, or shall I show you the bicycle?

Show me the bicycle, says Nietzsche.

They go out to the shed, where the Platonic Ideal is currently leading a spider-related existence.

Gaius flicks a few webs off the saddle. They stick to his fingers.

Try it, says Gaius.

Nietzsche gets on. Wobbles around the garden. Falls off.

This proves the Will is devoid of rationality and intellect, says Nietzsche.

Get back on, says Sweezus. You need to get your balance or you'll never make it to Goolwa.

Nietzsche gets back on.

The bicycle ( built expressly for Schopenhauer, at the Treadly Bike Shop) recognises a kindred spirit.

Nietzsche rides around the garden as though he has been riding a bicycle all his life.

Cool performance! says Sweezus.

At its core the universe is not a rational place, we need to minimise our desires in order to achieve a tranquil state of mind, says Nietzsche.

Just what Schopenhauer used to say......ahem....by the way, I should warn you...... says Gaius.

But he is interrupted by a fracas in the kitchen.

He runs back inside.

Recognition Recognition

Sweezus and Nietzsche head off down the stairs with the Catcher.

On the way down they pass Katherine.

Hello, Sweezus, says Katherine. OH! Friedrich Nietzsche!

Madam, says Nietzsche, bowing to her on the staircase.

Katherine ignores him. She continues on up the stairs.

What's Sweezus doing with that dreadful chap Nietzsche? says Katherine.

Why, mother, what's wrong with Nietzsche? asks David.

I blame him entirely for the Holocaust, says Katherine. All that will power and superiority.....

In fairness, says Vello, that was his sister Elisabeth. She altered his notes.

That's right, blame a woman, says Katherine. Where are they going?

Off to see Gaius, says David. To borrow a bike. Did you see that large crab they had with them?

Crab? says Katherine. Is that what it was?

Apparently not, replies David.

You philosophers! says Katherine. Nothing is ever straightforward. Is the kettle on?

.......

Sweezus knocks on Gaius's front door.

Hello! says Gaius. You're just the man, since I can't locate Arthur. I'm off to hunt frogs. Have you heard of the Baw Baw? Nearly extinct, tragically.

Slow down, man, says Sweezus. I'm kind of working. I've only  dropped by to borrow an extra bike. This is Friedrich Nietzsche. We're going whale-watching over at Goolwa.

Friedrich Nietzsche! cries Gaius. Naturally I've heard of you! How strange, I have the perfect bike....

Very good, says Nietzsche. I'm looking forward to learning to ride it. I used to ride horses. I was a fine rider, until I had that accident with a pommel.

A pommel, says Gaius. You don't say! Well, the Platonic Ideal has no pommel.

It used to belong to Schopenhauer, says Sweezus. It's heaps cool. Ass Saver mudguards, Knog lights and a San Marco saddle.

Schopenhauer! says Nietzsche. Excellent! The only philosopher I have any respect for.

Do come in, says Gaius. I'll put the kettle on.

They go inside.

It is only now that Gaius spots the Catcher, emerging from Sweezus's pocket.

Portunus pelagicus!  cries Gaius. Or should I say, Portunus armatus?

Neither, says the Catcher. I now identify simply as a Catcher.

Do you catch frogs?.....begins Gaius.

But suddenly he is interrupted.

Ageless lobster, who has been visiting Kobo in the kitchen, has heard the familiar voice of his friend.

Portunus! cries Ageless. My old buddy!

For the Catcher, this is slightly embarrassing.

Gay Macarons and Eternal Recurrence

In Larry and Ladd:

Sweezus and Nietzsche are eating Blueberry Pancake macarons.

They have resolved what the green stuff on the top is.

( It's blue juice, which has turned green in contact with the yellow macaron. It was Sweezus who came up with the explanation, which Nietzsche agreed was most likely).

I should like to see more of the Catcher, says Nietzsche, wiping yellow crumbs from his mo.

That's good, says Sweezus. Terence has rejected him. We could take him out somewhere. Do you ride a bike?

I don't, says Nietzsche. But I'm sure I could master it.

No kidding! says Sweezus. I knew that photo was a fake.

What photo? asks Nietzsche.

There's one kicking around on the internet, says Sweezus. It's your head, must be some other guy's body. Look, I'll show you.

He gets out his phone. Calls up the picture.

It's Nietzsche's head, on a tilt, perfectly photo-shopped onto a nineteenth century racing cyclist's body.

In the photo, Nietzsche looks like a sporting professional. He is tempted to claim that the man in the picture is him.

What a pity he has already denied it.

This is the sort of insupportable thing that happens to him ALL THE TIME! Proving his theory of eternal recurrence!

His face turns bright red. His moustache ends stand upright.

What's up? says Sweezus. Don't stress over it. I'll get hold of a bike and we'll go pick up the Catcher and.... hey! Would you like to go whale watching? Out at Goolwa?

Nietzsche takes several deep breaths.

Whale watching. Yes. That sounds calming.

I would, says Nietzsche.

They leave, not forgetting to pay for the long macchiatos and gay macarons.

.......

Vello is in the office with David.

They are boiling a kettle, when Sweezus and Nietzsche arrive.

Hi, says Sweezus. We're just here to pick up the Catcher. We're heading down to Goolwa. Can Nietzsche borrow a bike?

Err, two problems, says Vello.

What? says Sweezus.

We're just eating the Catcher, says Vello.

We haven't, says David. Not yet.

They're just kidding, says Sweezus, to Nietzsche. No way they'd eat Terence's pet.

Is it Terence's? says David.

What's the other problem? asks Sweezus.

Both our bikes are out of action, says Vello. Why not ask Gaius if you can borrow the Platonic Ideal?

Okay, says Sweezus. So, where's the Catcher?

Here! squeaks the Catcher, raising a claw over the rim of a saucepan....

We just put him there to keep him away from the kettle, says Vello.

Sweezus lifts the Catcher out of the pan, and holds him in front of Nietzsche.

Well done, says Nietzsche. A moral victory over repression.

Hardly, says David Hume.

What's at Goolwa? asks the Catcher, moral victory behind him.

Whales, I believe, says Nietzsche.

Count me in. I can catch ANYTHING! says the Catcher.

Getting To Understand Nietzsche

Sweezus takes Nietzsche to Larry and Ladd in the Regent Arcade.

What'll you have? asks Sweezus.

Whatever you're having, says Nietzsche.

(He is still a bit twitchy).

Sweezus orders two long macchiatos and two Blueberry Pancake macarons.

They sit down.

So, says Sweezus, the women don't like your moustache. That's bizarre.

Maybe it's just me, says Nietzsche, looking gloomy.

The long macchiatos arrive.

You might have preferred an affogato, says Sweezus.

No this is fine, says Nietzsche.

So, you're into transformations, says Sweezus. That's cool.

Nietzsche says nothing.

He wonders if he would have preferred an affogato.

If he knew what one was he would know.

Sweezus is getting worried. This is not going well.

The truth is, says Nietzsche, I was nervous about meeting you.

Me? says Sweezus.

Well, you know, says Nietzsche. I have been highly critical of Christianity.

Yeah? says Sweezus. I don't think much of it either. But shit man, no one cares now.

I think you'll find some people do, says Nietzsche. And it's quite understandable. I claim God is dead.

Better not tell Terence, says Sweezus. He thinks god is his grandpa.

This Terence is the one who transformed the Catcher? says Nietzsche.

The Catcher transformed himself, says Sweezus. Only too well. He exceeded his mandate.

This interests me greatly, says Nietzsche. I believe man as a race is merely a bridge between animals and the superman. This ...errr.. ex-crab, is already half way over the tightrope.

The Blueberry Pancake macarons arrive.

They are bright yellow, with green specks on top.

Tightrope! says Sweezus. Man, yeah, that was heaps funny!

Funny? says Nietzsche, licking the green off his pancake.

What is it?

Yeah, I started reading your story last night, says Sweezus. Zarathustra comes down from the mountain after ten years to give everyone an earful and this dude in the village falls off a tightrope and wrecks his lecture.

You misunderstand, says Nietzsche. That IS the lecture.

Fuck, says Sweezus. I'd better finish it.

That's all right, says Nietzsche. What do you think this green stuff is?

The Will To Power

Next morning, in the Velosophy office:

Vello is watching the clock.

His guest is looking nervous, and tweaking his bushy moustache.

Footsteps are heard on the stairs. The door opens.

Sweezus enters, looking apologetic for two reasons.

1. He is late for work.

2. He is leading the Catcher, on a short string.

Ah! At last! says Vello. Sweezus, this is Friedrich Nietzsche.

Luckily, Sweezus is expecting Friedrich Nietzsche. Belle was right. Superman. Ubermensch. The Will to Power. All that stuff.

Pleased to meet you, says Sweezus.

And this is Sweezus, says Vello. Our up and coming young journalist. But I don't know who this is.

Vello looks enquiringly at the Catcher.

Yeah, sorry about this, says Sweezus. It's a Rock Parrot Catcher. I ended up with him this morning because yeah... it's a long story.

Do tell, says Friedrich Nietzsche. I an interested in transformations.

This is promising.

It's a Blue Swimmer crab, says Vello. Probably illegally removed from Saint Kilda.

No way! says Sweezus. We wouldn't do that.

Correct, says the Catcher. And in any case, I would have refused, had I not experienced an epiphany.

Refused to be removed? says Vello. That's interesting, coming from a creature that's being led around on a string.

I am more interested in the epiphany, says Friedrich Nietzsche.

The Catcher is only too willing to tell his story.

I was a Blue Swimmer, says the Catcher, but I was captured by Arthur and Shu, after a violent tussle.

I might have known, says Vello.

And they brought me to the Others, says the Catcher. And one of the Others took me for a Rock Parrot Catcher.

But you were not, at that stage, a real Rock Parrot Catcher, says Nietzsche.

( Nietzsche is perceptive)

No, says the Catcher. But I sensed a glimmer.

Go on, go on, says Nietzsche.

This Other, a young one named Terence....

Why am I not surprised? murmurs Vello.

Terence, continues the Catcher, took me to search for Rock Parrots and we found one.

And what happened? asks Nietzsche.

I ATE it, says the Catcher.

Bravo! says Nietzsche.

I used to eat molluscs and worms, says the Catcher. It irks me to think of it now.

Yes yes! cries Nietzsche,

He is getting a tad too excited. His moustache works alarmingly. He leaps up from his chair.

Now then, says Vello. I suggest you two, that is you two HUMANS, go and get better acquainted over a coffee somewhere. Sweezus, you may want to leave the crab here.

Sweezus is only too glad to.

He and Nietzsche go off down the stairs.

Cool moustache, says Sweezus.

Thank you, says Nietzsche. I'm quite proud of it. But the women don't like it......

The Catcher looks around the Velosophy office.

Is there anything to eat? asks the Catcher.

Vello eyes the Catcher.

Yes, I think I can rustle up something, says Vello.

Who Superman Is A Clue For

The Catcher is filled with great confidence.

That's why he can talk.

Which will be helpful.

Right! says Terence. That does it! You go on a lead!

You don't have one, says Shu.

It's true, he doesn't. Terence changes tack.

Let's go back to the others, says Terence. Let's show them what you did.

How? asks the Catcher. I ate the whole Rock Parrot. Ooh! I feel sick.

He vomits up a few yellow feathers, and several white bones and red sinews.

That would have been my new parrot, says Terence sadly.

Well, there it is, says the Catcher.

It's dead, says Terence. I've had dead ones before. They're nothing but trouble. Now I've got nothing.

But trouble, says the Catcher.

What? says Terence.

He doesn't get it, but Shu can see that the Catcher is smart.

He means that he represents trouble, says Shu. You ought to like that.

I would like that, says Terence. IF he hadn't eaten my pet!

The Catcher vomits up a bit more of the ex-potential ex-pet.

Look, says Shu, this can't be easy for anyone. Shall we let it go now? Give me your hand.

He takes Terence's hand gently. Ouch. It's the claw one.

Sorry, says Terence.

He and Shu walk back to the others, trailed by the Catcher, who has nowhere else to go.

Any luck? asks Belle.

Terence doesn't answer.

Did Catcher find something to eat? asks Belle.

Shu raises an eyebrow.

The question is closed.

Everyone piles into the camper.

Sweezus is sitting in the front next to Midge who is driving.

You're very quiet, says Midge.

Actually, everyone is quiet.

Barbs is watching Arthur pick dried clay platelets from his legs.

As he does so his scratches start bleeding.

Belle is comforting Terence.

There there, never mind. Have a dried cranberry.

The Catcher is feeling nauseous, but doesn't want to disgrace himself by throwing up in the van.

Shu is watching the drab scenery and remembering the words of Du Fu:

I have come three thousand miles. Sad now with autumn......

But Midge has asked Sweezus particularly.

Yeah, says Sweezus. You'd be quiet if you had to meet Superman.

That's ridiculous, says Midge. There's no such person.

Oh! says Belle. I was thinking, it might not be Superman. It could've been a clue. What did dad say exactly?

Shit yeah! He said it was a clue! says Sweezus.

Right! I know who it'll be then, says Belle.

Everyone in the van tries to guess who Belle thinks Superman is a clue for........

One Word Closer To Destiny

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

It's a bird.

An ordinary pelican.

About to touch down on the water.

The Rock Parrot Catcher is disappointed.

Come on, says Terence. Let's hunt for Rock Parrots.

This is more like it.

They leave Midge and Sweezus, Belle, Barbs, Shu and Arthur behind.

It would be good if you could talk, says Terence.

The Rock Parrot Catcher thinks much the same thing.

Do you want me to teach you? asks Terence.

No answer.

Rock, says Terence, pointing at a rock.

The Rock Parrot Catcher is one word closer to his destiny.

So, that's a Rock.

Terence lifts up the rock.

Under the rock a stocky plump grass parrot, dull brownish, is sheltering.

........

Time to head back to Adelaide, says Midge. Everyone ready?

Where's Terence? asks Belle.

Terence appears to be missing, along with the Catcher.

I'll find him, says Shu.

(It's time Shu did something)

Shu walks off in the direction he thinks he remembers Terence went.........

Squelch, squelch ( mudflats)

Hiss, hiss (samphire saltmarsh)

Rustle, rustle (dense shrubbery).

Tsit -tseet! ( rock parrot, about to be shredded )

Nooo! ( Terence commanding his Rock Parrot Catcher not to kill the Rock Parrot)

Whooo-huh......death of the Rock Parrot.

Crunch crunch.

Too late.

Terence, says Shu, appearing too late, as has already been indicated.

Wah! says Terence. You were supposed to CATCH it, not EAT it!

Burrrp!

I do what I must, says the Catcher.

The Fervent Wish Of The Catcher

Midge is reviewing Sweezus's nature photos.

She tries to be kind.

You nearly captured that egret, she says. And that's a great one of sand.

Yeah, says Sweezus. I feel heaps more confident with a camera between me and a bird.

You're so funny, says Belle. These photos are awful.

Yeah, well I got distracted, says Sweezus. Is Superman even a real person?

No, says Belle. He's a fictional character.

What's this about? asks Midge.

The question is, is Superman a philosopher? says Belle.

The question is, says Midge, what fool wants to know?

Me, says Sweezus. I have to pick his brains and get him to write something for Velosophy.

I don't think he rides a bike, says Belle. Was this dad's idea?

Yep, says Sweezus.

Well, I don't get it, says Belle. Oh, hang on a minute.....

She is about to say something which might have a bearing on Superman's identity.

But she is interrupted.

Arthur, Shu, Barbs and Terence have returned to the mudflats.

And someone is with them. Someone who no longer identifies as a Blue Swimmer Crab.

This someone is lagging behind.

Hurry up! says Terence. Or I'll put you on a LEAD.

You guys caught a crab! says Sweezus. A big one!

No, says Arthur. We're not calling it a crab. If it was a crab, we couldn't keep it.

That's correct, says Barbs. It identifies as a Rock Parrot Catcher.

Is that a thing? asks Belle. A Rock Parrot Catcher?

I've never heard of it, says Midge.

She leans down to get a closer look at the Rock Parrot Catcher.

Excuse me, says Terence. He's shy.

The Rock Parrot Catcher is not shy. He has a feeling that something is wrong with his new identity. He feels clammy inside.

If only he knew what his new role entailed.  He's okay with CATCHER. But... what's a Rock Parrot?

Maybe he's hungry, says Belle. He looks a bit peaky. What do they eat?

They eat small fish and crustaceans, molluscs, worms and occasionally algae and sea grass, says Midge.

He eats Rock Parrots, says Terence. That's why he should be on a lead.

The Rock Parrot Catcher hopes that soon someone will spot one.

He hopes further that he will catch it, before he is put on a lead.

Then he will EAT it, whatever it is.

Which will stop him feeling clammy inside.

This is the fervent wish of the Rock Parrot Catcher.

Will it be granted?

Will it.

......

Look, up in the sky!

They Should Respect That

Why not be a rock parrot catcher?

That's what the crab's thinking.

The Birder has more conventional ideas.

This is an aquatic reserve, says the Birder. The taking of crabs and plants is prohibited.

My Crab is a Taker of Birds, says Terence.

He's a Blue Swimmer Crab, and you took him, says the Birder.

I didn't, says Terence. He came into my hands.

We took him, says Shu.

No harm done, says the Birder. Drop him back where you found him.

It's not fair! says Terence. He was a Crab, but now he isn't.

The Crab is glad someone understands him.

He now identifies as a Rock Parrot Catcher. They should all respect that.

........

Down on the mudflats and saltmarshes, Sweezus is getting used to the Nikon D7750.

Its high resolution makes for great nature photos.

His only problem is......

Point it at the BIRDS, says Midge.

Come on, says Belle. Oh look! There's a spoonbill!

Sweezus turns slowly.

Deep breaths..... point and ....ring ring!

The spoonbill flies off. Sweezus answers his phone. It's Vello.

Coming back soon? asks Vello.

Yeah, says Sweezus. What have you got for me?

A visitor, says Vello. I'd like you to show him around. Pick his brains a little. Nothing too obvious. See if he'll write us an article.

I'll be back tomorrow, says Sweezus. Who's the guy?

I don't want to put you off, says Vello.

Not Sartre, says Sweezus.

No, says Vello. Wait and see.

At least give me a clue, says Sweezus.

Superman, says Vello.

Awesome, says Sweezus. Okay, got to go now. I'm in the middle of something.

He was in the middle of something. He was photographing a spoonbill. But the spoonbill has long gone. And an egret has taken its place.

Deep breath...point and....

Superman?

What's up? says Belle.

Would you say Superman was a philosopher? asks Sweezus.

No way! says Belle. Didn't he fight for Truth, Justice and the American Way?

Sweezus thinks about that for a moment.

Belle's right. No way.

Crazy Crab Rock Parrot Catcher

The boardwalk is four hundred metres. Terence stomps to the end.

He hasn't seen Arthur or Shu. How did he miss them?

He sits down on the boardwalk.

Clang clang!

Something's going on in the bushes.

Squelch.

You got me!

Oh sorry.

Shu emerges from a dense tangle of mangroves, with a crab and a dinner knife.

Yay! says Terence. Can I have your knife?

It's blunt, says Shu. And I need to find Arthur.

Me too, says Terence. He has the best knife.

No need to remind me, says Shu. Here, hold my crab.

The crab is waving its mandibles.

Terence is wary.

Shu jumps down into the squelchy debris.

Disappears behind the tangle of mangroves.

Terence is holding the crab.

.........

Barbs is still in the bird hide, with the Birder.

The sea mullet has gone.

They are whispering, as you must in a bird hide.

The entire Samphire Coast is now a Bird Sanctuary with three years of funding, whispers the Birder.

Lucky birds, whispers Barbs. At least they have somewhere to return to.

It's a round trip of 25,000 kilometres each year, says the Birder.

I wouldn't attempt it, whispers Barbs.

Ha ha. Me either, whispers the Birder.

They are getting on well, evidently.

Terence crashes into the bird hide.

Where is it? demands Terence, forgetting that he is meant to whisper.

Where is what? asks the Birder.

My rock parrot, says Terence. Is it still in the water?

No it's gone says Barbs, quickly. What's that you've got there?

A crab, says Terence.

It is a crab. They can see it. At least he's got that right.

.......

Shu and Arthur appear at the entrance to the bird hide.

Arthur is muddy.

Did you fall off the board walk? asks Barbs.

No, says Arthur. We spotted a crab. There was a tussle.

That's right, says Shu. A tussle. May I have my crab back?

This is MY crab, says Terence. He's a rock parrot catcher.

No one believes him.

Except the rock parrot catcher.

Sometimes a crazy idea comes along.....

The Interpretations

Some time has elapsed.

Arthur and Shu have entered the Interpretive Centre, collected a key, and are waiting at the gate to the Saint Kilda Mangrove Trail Boardwalk.

They have not read the Interpretations.

Barbs and Terence have followed five minutes later.

They have entered the Interpretive Centre, and...... bumhole! Now Barbs wants to read them.

How interesting! says Barbs, examining enlarged prints of what she will see in a minute. Salt glands! Aerial roots!

Come ON! says Terence.

Just a minute, says Barbs. Do you think Arthur will have a key?

YES! says Terence. But he'd get in anyway. He does what he wants to.

That's not how things work here, says Barbs.

I know, says Terence. I saw an invisible bird under a rock on the mudflats.

We saw you , says Barbs. But we saw the bird too.

I only said it was invisible.... says Terence.

We thought so, says Barbs.

Because, says Terence, it wasn't a parrot.

You won't see a parrot in here, says Barbs. But out on the boardwalk, there's a bird hide. You'll see some birds there.

So lets GO! says Terence.

They go.

Arthur and Shu are waiting at the gate with the key.

I'm in a hurry, says Terence.

He wants to get to the bird hide, says Barbs.

Arthur opens the gate and Terence runs past him. His cement feet clatter on the boardwalk. All living things fly away quickly, or dive.

What an amazing environment, says Barbs. See these stunted mangroves here. Do you know why they're stunted?

No, says Arthur. Why?

Salinity, says Barbs. And if you look under the leaves you'll see salt crystals have formed because there are salt glands in the leaves which.......

Arthur has walked off already, not wanting a lecture on salt glands.

Shu is playing with the dinner knife in his pocket.

Then he walks off too.

How rude and incurious they are. Barbs walks on, towards the open canopy. The trees are getting taller. She admires their aerial roots and the pneumatophores and lenticels through which oxygen enters.

She passes the bird hide. Terence is in there, with a man. The man looks like a Birder.

The man is saying: You'll be lucky to find a rock parrot down there.

Terence is leaning over a wooden ledge, looking into the water.

There! says Terence.

That's a fish, says the Birder. A sea mullet.

I thought this was a BIRD hide! says Terence.

You have to be quiet to spot a bird from a bird hide, says the Birder. Ssh!

Barbs edges silently into the bird hide.

Ssh! says Terence. There's a bird down there and we think it's a parrot.

It's a mullet, whispers the Birder.

Isn't a mullet a FISH? whispers Barb.

Yes, whispers the Birder.

Get me something! cries Terence. I want to catch it!

I haven't got anything, says Barb. And catching's probably not allowed anyway.

That's right, says the Birder. It's not. I'm Peter Graff by the way. Local Birder.

I'm Barbs, says Barbs. And this is.....

But Terence has clattered away to find Arthur.

He has remembered that Arthur has a Swiss Army knife in his pocket.