Flippancy: the art of divining the future by tossing a coin.
-------------------------
Fionn gazed at Mason thoughtfully. “Would you describe y’self as a rationalist, Mason?” he asked. “D’ye like things to be explicable in terms of known and observable phenomena?”
Mason nodded.
“Then try lookin’ at it this way.” As he was speaking, Fionn got up and set about making a pot of tea. “Have y’ever been in the position where y’ve got a choice of a coupla things to do? Fr’instance, let’s say that this evening ye can either go fer a beer with y’girl, or pass a few hours playin’ cards with the lads. Would y’recognise such a dilemma?”
“Spose so,” Mason admitted.
“An’ yer really not sure which it is ye want to do, let’s say? Would y’not decide that ye’ll settle it on the toss of a coin, now?”
“Might do.”
“So, we’ll say heads fer the drink with a young one, and tails the poker game. Would y’toss a coin, please, Elvis?” Fionn instructed, as he took three mugs from a cupboard.
Elvis flipped a penny, and smacked it to the table. “Tails,” he announced.
“The poker game,” Fionn nodded, bringing a laden tea tray to the table. “There’s y’decision, Mason.”
“Can’t we make it best-of-three?” Mason asked, realizing, now that he was faced with the imaginary prospect of letting some woman down, that he didn’t want to play cards at all.
Fionn clapped his hands and grinned. “Aha! There y'go." He poured the tea. “This simple little binary chance has shown yer the future, right enough. A minute ago y’didn’t know what yer were going to do, and now you do. Help y’self t’milk.”
---------------------------------
Halitosis
Reply With Quote
