“Exit, pursued by a bear.”

“Exit, pursued by a bear.”
― William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale



He does a bunch of stuff…

“but is chased away in one of Shakespeare’s most famous stage directions: “Exit, pursued by a bear.” (It is not known whether Shakespeare used a real bear from the London bear-pits, or an actor in bear costume.)” – via Wiki

London bear-pits !?! WTF!?!


… what was this stuff he was doing and why did the bear chase him away?

I have no idea because I’m not sure I have read or have seen this particular play. I can’t recall… ergo might as well go with I haven’t… a clue.

Being not sure… is fairly normal and natural for human beings in all situations. Unless, of course, we’re using Sure deodorant spray, then… we may still be unsure about everything, but may be less smelly while being unsure, which may make us cocksure, but…

Being chased by a bear will make you sweat, but if you’ve used deodorant… it may not make you stink of the odour of your sweat. Your fear will not have a stench of fear, and may be obscured by roses or vanilla or spice or… other chemicals that aren’t yours. That’ll confuse the bear! Maybe enough to let you get away from homicidal bear claws (unless they’re made of pastry).

And if you’re using a deodorant which also claims to be antiperspirant… what happens to your sweat when it is not allowed to express itself naturally, when you’re not allowed to perspire? Does it collect inside somewhere?

I worry about these things… which is why I tend not to use antiperspirant, as it causes an excess of worry about the lack of natural sweat… and variations on the E=MC2 as understood by my mind which is always… being chased by a bear of some sort.


graffiti - the eyes are useless when the mind is blind



Let’s exit that and enter somewhere else. Perhaps we crossed a threshold to get away from one chaser and ended up in a place where we’re not being chased yet, but maybe want to be.

A place where the chaser isn’t chasing us, we’re chasing it… maybe we’re even it.

Want surreal, be human and interact with other humans.

Humans are the masters of being surreal at all times even when we claim that something is real and believe that we’re masters of the real – that claim in and of itself… surreal.

Take this, for instance:


“”Narcissists were NOT born evil.””…………………I’m not so sure about that: Psalm 59:3-5 “The wicked are estranged from the WOMB: they go astray as soon as they be BORN, speaking lies. Their poison is like the poison of a serpent: they are like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; Which will not hearken to the voice of charmers , charming never so wisely…. (Also read Jesus’ parable in Matthew about the “Wheat and the Tares.”)


This is a comment made recently on an old post on my blog.

A post wherein I guess I said something about those newest evil supervillains being human.

Someone decided to focus only on one small excerpt from the post (which was surreal to them) and then take it… somewhere where… I’m not planning on following them, even just for a visit, a show and tell or an open house. This house doesn’t look particularly open to me. It has a Stepford kind of vibe to it… and Stepford isn’t real. It’s a surreal version of the real.

This is a comment which is not going to get ‘approved’ because… for one thing, I like to reply to the comments on my posts and I have no reply for this. This is too surreal for me.

I’m quite adept at being surreal, but not like this. I’m fairly adaptable to the surreal of others, but not this time.

Humans… like to sometimes make other humans into something unhuman, to dehumanise and then justify it (be careful what you do to others), when they don’t want to understand others because understanding them means visiting places within ourselves where we don’t want to go… or something like that.

We want others to understand us… but doing unto others…

We label others as evil… what we do to others…

Welcome to the surreal world…



“Surrealism is destructive, but it destroys only what it considers to be shackles limiting our vision.”
― Salvador Dalí