In the Bedrock

disclaimer:

There is no-moral here. ONLY the passing of time. 

There is a joke that goes something like a man who complains there is a intolerable pain stretching from the crown of his head to the ball of his anus and his taxing search for an answer he begins with a bit of advice from a friend who explains with concern that the pain may be without a resolution, he/she heard from a friend, the only path to freeing oneself from such torture would be self-castration ('Us Badaatak) but recommends the advice of a official so he goes to extrapolate on said pain, from the crown of his head to the ball of his anus, to his doctor and meets a concerned glare..."Although it may seem ill-informed I am your doctor," he testifies, "The only path to freeing oneself from such torture would be self-castration" however the man is not convinced so he takes his journey of physical liberation to the cradle of scientific medicine - Germany- there meets with some of the most prestigious physicians on the planet so they begin a panorama of concerned looks who with the grandest decorations declare "Without a fraction of a doubt we are absolute," they command, "The only path to freeing oneself from such torture would be self-castration" and admittedly the man lowers his head obliged by their words, however painful, and commits - years pass as time flourishes and there is some metaphor about the stifling of things elsewhere and our man is getting fitted for a suit for and engagement for you see but abruptly when the tailor asks "what side do you prefer your balls on, the left leg or the right" and our man replies, "well normally the left, but I will have you know that it has been sometime since I have had the pleasure because you see there was a pain---" "A pain?!," the tailor asks, "yes, a pain," he replies, "and now would said pain be intolerable and stretch from the crown of your head to the ball of your anus?" "Thats exactly the torture!" exclaims our man, "Ah well we would just put your balls on the right leg" and so there is likely a story here about the wisdoms from the mundane, immeasurable fiction of everything that science can subvert, the impressionability of the individual, the fragility of personality and how easy it is to slip from "I," or just a-lot of balls and cheap humor over whisky in tea-cups in my apartment with a saz, stories, and hospitality administered by what some people from Turkey call a Saki (one who pours).