Lets get back to the basics. There are two simple qualities that make up the world: Straight, and Curved. Any idea or thing has its origins in the principals of straightliness and curvliness. In MY latin terms these are called “curvaceous” and “straightliness”
Every letter of the alphabet is made up of a distinct combination of “curvaceous” and “straighliness” strokes, which, in their special combination, form a complete letter.
One can fairly say that the entire written language is dependent upon the contrast between straightly and curvly lines, as is the physical makeup of the world around you, the wave-forms of sounds that you hear, even the binary laws on which computers are founded. Ones and Zeros. 1 or 0. Black or white. On or Off. Curvaceous or Straighliness. Good or Evil.
It is nice to know that the world is so simple.
It is important to pick sides in the war between the straight line and the curve.
Me? I’m batting for the curvy team. If you dare to doubt me, look at my hair. One perfectly round ball of perfect little curves.
Go, Circles, Go!!!!
The most perfect straight line is an endless line. No chance of return, just a line moving progressively further, reaching futilely for infinity, for a final moment of rest. But there is never any rest for the straight line. It spans forever, reaching endlessly for infinity. Who would support an un-ending line when you could stand for an un-beginning circle?
The circle, if you didn’t know it, is the perfect form of the curved line. It is a uniform curve which manages to seamlessly double back on itself. It is not so mushy and indefinite as a line, which you are forced to imagine spanning indefinitely. A circle is contained.
Do you remember that one time on TV when Scully got that tattoo? Well, I couldn’t see the entire tattoo, because my round TV crops out the corners of the picture, but I’m pretty sure that I know what it was. An ouroboros. The snake that feeds on its own tale. The end is the beginning is the end. From its own death springs the snake’s life.
Circles are neat!
Because, you see, they have no beginning, and they have no end. Like the line, they go on indefinitely if you choose to see them as such, but they manage to have boundaries. A circle is an enclosure, a constricted area, a sphincter. What’s really cool is that, since the circle goes around and around, it is the perfect symbol of eternity, infinity. But it is also the shape of the number zero. The secret symbol that means, precisely, nothing.
Oh, circle, how I love thee. If the government would only sanctify inter-shape marriage, I would marry thee. And when I wedded thee, I would encircle thee with the yanic shape of a shiny, Cuvaceous wedding ring. Bound to you, in an endless, circular love.
As the lay-man is often unfamiliar with the divinity of the circle, I have decided to introduce you to a number of deliciously round, maliciously shiny objects.
As I mentioned, Agent Scully sports, a lovely ouroboros tattoo, which, covered in the sweat of an exhausting day out tanning on the beach, might shimmer and glisten in a manner that makes my stomach churn with desire.