Dressed in motley, the fool stands on the street corner, entertaining the masses. A threat to no one, he juggles, and whistles, and dances all at the same time. Oh, what a spectacle! The fool is allowed in the king's court, to liven the mood. 

The fool joins the lowliest of peasants in the discourse. With no filter, the fool makes jest of everything; both things trite and sacred. The fool makes jest of everything. The fool knows that if his jests get too rambunctious, he will be executed without hesitation, but he jests anyway. The fool, with his lack of wits, makes the wittiest jokes, yet cannot make the most basic decisions. 

When the kingdom is raided by marauders, and all are slain, the fool is spared. He is captured by the marauders and made to dance for the new regime. The fool has no dignity or shame, so he will do this anyway. 

The fool is friend, he is foe, he is entertainer, adviser, child, geezer, and sage. For whatever card is on the top of the deck, the fool can be placed on it, whatever it is. The fool, like water, takes the shape of the state of the world: the deck. 

Above all else, despite ridicule, disapproval, advice, recommendation, and spite, the fool persists in his folly. Persists in his folly. Persists in his folly. Persists in his folly.

March 2, 2025, 11:19 a.m.

Written bY CYril