Speculative Delusions

I think about how to use the things at hand. It’s kind of like this but for tools and equipment. It happens with skills as well, but much more rarely. My psyche is more focused on possessions than personal powers. Of course, being a young man, a lot of these hypothetical scenarios involve using whatever is at hand as an improvised weapon in some sort of violence-driven cinematic sequence.

In any case, I’m often rather startled by the incongruity of the speculations that come to mind. I’m going to start posting these under the Delusions of Grandeur category. Hopefully these missives from my imagination will prove interesting and worth reading, in keeping with our high content standards here at Isqua Istari.

To add some content to this article, here’s an example.

The Setting: I was sitting on the back steps of my house, sharpening my WWII USMC KBAR (It’s a big knife. My wife found it at a garage sale!). The sun shone down, glinting on the metal laid bare of rust by the sand-paper between my fingers. I had already finished honing the grooves in the handle, and smoothing off the burrs and nicks. Now, as the edge of the blade grew razor sharp, my mind fell to speculation.

The Speculation: This knife would be great for stabbing things. Or hacking at things. Probably just killing stuff in general. I’ll bet I could kill wild animals with it. Wolves, prowling the neighborhood. Three at a time, stabbing straight into the mouth, twirling around to catch the flanking pack with a swinging slash. I’d probably want to wear my motorcycle gear, to keep from getting bitten too badly. Silver suited in leather with a big old knife? Yes indeed!

But that wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Slaughtering dogs? How about something a bit bigger. A hippo would be about right. Huh… I’d probably get killed. Could I even drive the hardened steel through the skull of a hippopotamus? Okay, I’m going to need something better than this knife. Maybe my compound bow. The Hippo is up the street a ways, by the park. I’m standing in the middle of the road with my compound bow in my left hand, arrow in my right hand, and the KBAR in my left hand (don’t worry about it, this is a delusion remember?). The arrow flies straight and true, but the creature still lives. I begin sprinting down the street, leap in the air and drive the blade through the top of its skull!

That’s pretty much as far as that line of reasoning goes. By this time the knife is sharp enough to shave with. Guess I’ll put it away in the closet and forget about it for another few months.

About Ziggy

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