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 "Return the valve manually," he shouted up at Darby, "to its closed position," adding, "you little fool," in a barely audible tone.

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By returning the valve manually, we see that mankind still has ultimate control of the machines he surrounds himself with. Mankind is still in the saddle, if I can be so bold as to distort a poetic reference from a poem I hardly understand and have probably twisted to my own means. Sorry, Waldo.

Speaking of little fools, I once met a guy at a party (the Millennium New Year's Eve party, I believe (the generally accepted one and not the historically accurate one)) who proclaimed he was a Taoist. He said he became Taoist when one of his friends declared he was the most Taoist person he'd ever met. So then he looked into Taoism and strove to become more Taoist. Which, I mean, just seemed like the least Taoist thing ever. I explained to him that I, on the other hand, was absolutely distraught when I learned what Taoism was while studying John Steinbeck's Tortilla Flat because it seemed that that was what I was but by putting a name to it, I suddenly wasn't that at all. When it was just a way I lived my life, it was more the thing than knowing that I was living my life according to some set of beliefs (no matter how sort of lazy and arbitrary they might be, being, you know, Taoist). I decided to just ignore that I ever heard of the stupid philosophy and went back to my life.

I'm not saying I was a better Taoist than this guy who wanted to be the best Taoist but, I mean, come on. I'm sure it wasn't very Taoist of me to gain pleasure from telling this guy that his desire to be Taoist wasn't very Taoist but then, like I said, I didn't become Taoist when I discovered what it was. So what was holding me back from gaining pleasure in this sudden and unexpected moment where pleasure was to be derived?! Fuck that needing to be something unique and special shit! Especially fuck that Taoist shit for trying to make me more Taoist by rejecting Taoism! Stop it, Taoism! Leave me alone! Jerk.