Simplexity

I wonder why, for most people, simplicity equates to plainess, inferiority, stupidity. The simplest thing is often closest to the most perfect. Short stories are to novels as champagne is to beer. In novels, the author simply throws words at you until some of them make an impact. In short stories, every word counts.

In great simplicity, there is often great complexity. It is the closest one can possibly get to perfection. For instance, a single strand of string can become a complicated knot. A straight line cannot be drawn freehand.

Basically, only through complexity can we find true simplicity. So the conception that simplicity is easy, plain, stupid is wrong. Simplicity is underated, understated, flawless. It is perfection.

A really lame limerick about a mudskipper

There once was a 'skipper from long kang,
who was too big for his barang.
He jumped out from the drain,
and then into a plain -
the garden of overgrown lallang.

The contractor said it was lucky,
for a fish that was so very plucky,
so he stuck out his wella,
and moved the ole fella,
into a bucket which was really mucky.

Lame limerick about the mudskipper who popped up one day at the house we're currently renovating. The real story goes something like this:

My dad and the contractor, Mr G, walk out, and see this fish-like grey thing on the porch.

Dad: Oh, look, a fish!
Mr G: Is it still alive? (kicks fish, it wriggles)
Mr G: Yep, it's alive.
Dad: Let's throw it back in the long kang!
Mr G: No, lah! The fish is lucky you know! Keep lah! (puts it in a pail of water previously used for cement) You don't want I want.
Dad: Okay lah, I'll keep.

So my dad brings it home in a pail, and I advise him to throw it back into the drain.

"It's an amphibian, dad, not a fish!" "Giant mudskippers can be found at Sungei Buloh Nature Park! They aren't meant as pets!"

But my dad decides to keep it.