About Playing the Fool
Post 494:
If there’s one thing that becomes less opaque as I get older, it’s the fact that things are more complicated than we’d like to think. Most things you look into—they turn up having more sides than previously assumed.
As a methodology or an idea or whatever one wants to call it, I like to take a concept and walk around it. 360 degrees. Inspect. Examine. Squint and keep a weather eye. That kinda thing. Try to wrest a decent understanding of whatever I’m looking at or dealing with.
Today I’m giving the concept of The Fool a look. Not the fool that tried to borrow your car after six beers. We’re talking the formal Fool. I’ll make it clear: The guy who says things to the big dogs that nobody else will. The proper comedian. The one that uses humor like a hammer. Truth to power and all that. This is one of the most interesting archetypes, and Fools are manifested in literature, music, and right here in the real.
I got the idea to write about this from the song, Everybody Plays the Fool. MMM.
Sometimes.
We could talk about the endless wisdom of 70s soul music until the cows come home, but I’ll try to extricate myself from that rabbit hole. Pretty sure that song is about trying to score. Still. Greatness.
Let’s talk about The Fool. First thing that comes to mind is, I would rather not play the fool. Hard pass, please.
On the whole I’d agree. The Fool is the rock in your shoe. That rash you can’t explain. A reminder. A reality check that no matter what happens, reality is reality. The Fool is a pain in the ass. I’d rather not deal with his shenanigans.
I’ve got to do a Shakespeare reference. Sorry. I can feel the slings and arrows of your outrageous hatred being flung my way. But I shall endure.
King Lear. There’s a character literally dubbed The Fool. King Lear’s going batshiz, and the moronic idiot that hops around waiting to be punched in the face is the only one that can actually talk sense to the old monarch.
Silly and sideways he may be, but he’s packing the truth.
The king needs this jerk. The play is a masterpiece of emotional upheavals, but I’d rather not. Let’s stick with The Fool.
He’s a guy that might come in handy in our own lives. I’m a regular-type moron. I need somebody taking a piece out of me. But I’m also a human. This means I’m sensitive and weak and I react and all the other things on the irrationality scale.
And there’s the humor. I’ve got about twenty people in my life that will utterly destroy me with a verbal takedown if they see me getting out of line. It’s not hate. It’s love all the way. Simple. You don’t take a shot at someone you don’t care about, save bar fights. If you love someone it’s all about the real. Step out of line, take your medicine. It ain’t that big of deal, but people run from it. Lots of little kings out there. I’m guilty. Not saying I’m not.
What about being The Fool yourself? This is all about discretion. When you’re with your peeps, don’t be a schoolmarm. Schoolmarms are mean. Fools are different. Take a shot. Do it with a smile. You don’t even need bells or a funny hat.
The point: Laughter and humility. I can’t think of two better things. I need the humble. I need to laugh. Two of God’s greatest gifts. The Fool provides both. Cheers and see you after.
