– So said Jonathan Klinger. I hope he’s a good chap, because I can find out absolutely nothing about him. That’s alright, tho’, because I want to talk nonsense.

Sensibly, Ray Bradbury, someone I have heard of (he’s the author of Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked This Way Comes), says:

“If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be cynical. Well, that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.”

Nonsense is very important. That lovely feeling of transgression, of wrong, discomfort, of brain-muscles stretching, of being at an edge of understanding – or more often, beyond it – that is experiencing nonsense.

Neurologically, psychologically, it’s healthy, gets you out of the rut, makes the synapse tree of your brain grow more branches. And hopefully, it makes you smile, too, if you can laugh at yourself.
Here’s a wee bit of Impish nonsense. It’s from a small fiction the Imp’s been working on for the last few months. This is its very first breath of air:

Carlotta was a little girl
who saw the whole world’s mind
she ate it up with lollipops
and threw away the rind

Oh, chimneys in pockets are all very fine
When you’ve nothing but bobbins for tea
And lemonade cherubs will riddle your rhyme
But you have to save mublins for me

The rind got up and danced a jig
in a jewelled baby-grow
she drowned it in the river red
so it took her down below

Oh, chimneys in pockets are all very fine
When you’ve nothing but bobbins for tea
And lemonade cherubs will riddle your rhyme
But you have to save mublins for me.

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