TriVia or The Fork in the Road.

As yins of you who live (or who have lived an at) in Picksburg know, Dawntawn lies at the confluence of da Monongahela, de Allegheny an ne Ohio Rivers.

And if that ain’t trivia I don’t know what is.

I invented a game. It is definitely derivative and positively logical.

Calls it, I did! , Consequential Pursuits. It is an inexpensive game to manufacture but has a few ironclad and fearful rules that make it likely so unpopular that I gave up the idea of pocketing any gelt and print it here with little fear of copyright infringement. It is a game that belongs to the world.

If you choose to read on, I (and a cadre of tough legal professionals) will accept that as an affirmation that you have agreed to pay me, in a lump sum, a couple million bucks, at least, and out of concern for my physical, mental and spiritual well being let me retain all rights, including motion picture in the Orient. Make out said check to my favorite charity, J-O-S-E-P-H A. C-O-L-U-C-C-I-O (Get the picture? Sly devil, eh?). If you stop reading you do so at your own peril of ignorance, perhaps eternal damnation and, of course, you relinquish all rights in any case and I’ll probably cry or feel bad. Whatever the outcome make the check payable to me. As a sign of good faith!

The game consists of a few cards. Perhaps as few as five. Perhaps less. Depends on how comprehensive a universe I conceive, or do you conceive? At the beginning of play, several and many as a few but far less than a conclave of folks sit around a Formica kitchen table with one of those fifties Yves Tanguy Surreal yellow background patterns of pink and tan paramecia. (I have a deal with a furniture firm in Augusta, Georgia. Buy the game and get a kitchen set at 50% off.) The collective player ship should have a jelly glass (more than likely Stop n Save A Lot Grape, but StupidValu Orange Marmalade or those Peanut Butter and Jelly combinations will do as well. It is, of course, your choice whether or not the glass has been emptied of its sticky sweet contents and if emptied, washed) in their hands containing a fine mellow Merlot or a rather peppery Cabernet at the ready. Failing the wine, an option for a Grappa that makes your eyes cross can be seriously considered.

Play goes to the person who is most pot faced. Or snotfaced or snoodfaced or perhaps even straight laced. Make the choice democratic, (unless you live in Florida), see if I care. This is the realm of oligarchy; after all, you can beat the hell out of each other if it suits you. The game is yours to win! But someone must, I Repeat (with Capital Offense), SOMEONE must turn over the first card.

If the first card is blank, the cruelty of this universe is evident, the game is afoot and you must all drink to the Pope Puff. After any members of this Particular Pursuit game are exempt from life, liberty, but they may still pursue happiness! In most cases luckily the card will consist of a single word.

An Aside: I don’t really like to tip the scales one way or the other so I will suggest a word for example here that is at once so plebian and so tempestuous that I suggest it not be included in the official Consequential Pursuit Set of Cards.

The card could say: Love!

Now for the next twenty years or for those of you who, like Hans Morovec, plan to have your mind downloaded into a device, perhaps a Hoover Vacuum Machine, eternity, or until the warranty runs its course, you must contemplate that exposed for the all the world to see word and all the concept it contains.

You can only win by gaining tenure at a University as the Chair of some odd School or by having your name end with an ism.

Bon Chance! Good Luck and keep those flags a flyin’ !