In days when anarchists hurled homemade bombs at politicians, Allister lived a more common life of anarchy. That is to say if he had passed a sign that said 'Stop', he would have written underneath, 'Or Go'.
Hours were spent in single library sections, transplanting Poe and Shelley to the non-fiction and Webster's dictionary to the fiction section. And these, of course, would not rest in the pleasance of alphabetical order. With Allister’s assistance, Poe would nestle beside Defoe and they would be sandwiched between an atlas and an 18th century arithmetic text.
When trimming his hair, be it scalp or mustache, Allister made sure that each snip of the scissor removed a different length so that his hair remained a physical display of individuality. The disorganization betrayed only by Allister's unforgiving part that forced a canal of organized scalp through the left side of his masterful disarray. Allister’s speech bounced from syllable to syllable in no particular order. His tie was sometimes tied in a bow, sometimes a Windsor, sometimes a half Windsor, sometimes a Pratt, and sometimes around his ankle. On the Sabbath, Allister refused to rest, choosing instead to stay awake for each and every single minute of the twenty-four hours (sometimes taking it even farther by remaining completely active, leaping the entire day, for example). And when this refusal to rest became a rule of his own, he simply changed form and refused to address any of the days of the week by name.
And though these subtle rebellions brought about the end to no regimes, destroyed no government systems be they evil or good, changed no one in particular, Allister enjoyed the simplicity of breaking form. He enjoyed reading backwards and diagonal as well as forwards. He loved listening through his eyes and nose and toes as well as his ears. He loved being called Allison or Dudley or Gunther or Georgia or Allister. He loved drinking from bowls and eating out of cups. And this changed no overall opinion, created no bloodshed that freed us all from the restraints of bigwigs. But, from time to time, it did give Allister a giggle, a burst of spontaneity that even Allister had absolutely no control over.
And Allister, well he continued to follow no rules, not even ones written by himself until following no rules in itself became, by definition, a rule.
Hours were spent in single library sections, transplanting Poe and Shelley to the non-fiction and Webster's dictionary to the fiction section. And these, of course, would not rest in the pleasance of alphabetical order. With Allister’s assistance, Poe would nestle beside Defoe and they would be sandwiched between an atlas and an 18th century arithmetic text.
When trimming his hair, be it scalp or mustache, Allister made sure that each snip of the scissor removed a different length so that his hair remained a physical display of individuality. The disorganization betrayed only by Allister's unforgiving part that forced a canal of organized scalp through the left side of his masterful disarray. Allister’s speech bounced from syllable to syllable in no particular order. His tie was sometimes tied in a bow, sometimes a Windsor, sometimes a half Windsor, sometimes a Pratt, and sometimes around his ankle. On the Sabbath, Allister refused to rest, choosing instead to stay awake for each and every single minute of the twenty-four hours (sometimes taking it even farther by remaining completely active, leaping the entire day, for example). And when this refusal to rest became a rule of his own, he simply changed form and refused to address any of the days of the week by name.
And though these subtle rebellions brought about the end to no regimes, destroyed no government systems be they evil or good, changed no one in particular, Allister enjoyed the simplicity of breaking form. He enjoyed reading backwards and diagonal as well as forwards. He loved listening through his eyes and nose and toes as well as his ears. He loved being called Allison or Dudley or Gunther or Georgia or Allister. He loved drinking from bowls and eating out of cups. And this changed no overall opinion, created no bloodshed that freed us all from the restraints of bigwigs. But, from time to time, it did give Allister a giggle, a burst of spontaneity that even Allister had absolutely no control over.
And Allister, well he continued to follow no rules, not even ones written by himself until following no rules in itself became, by definition, a rule.
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