When things seem to be getting out of control at a Particular Decibel, Rhinos make it a rule to put all the Distance possible between them and the Point of Irritation.
With all the Haste at our command, which happily is pretty snappy, whatever you might have supposed.
Moliere (b.1622) is possibly the greatest French playwright ever. His works have been produced around the world, in his own day and in ours.
Rhinos are all for him, despite the fact that the culture he wrote about is long gone. Human nature seems not to have changed much, so his work is still interesting.
A brief catalogue would feature Tartuffe, The Misanthrope, The Learned Ladies, The Imaginary Invalid, and The Miser.
Toutes nos felicitations. (If you add some accents to that, it’s French.)
Rhinos all get older on a daily basis, Naturally. We acknowledge the process. We Mature.
However, Rhinos have limited interest in Growing Up.
Where’s the fun in that?
Each of Us will investigate 2018 as best We may, whatever the weather.
We at YIR wish you Readers the very best with your Adventures.
Remember: it’s always good to pack a) a fork and b) some bandaids.
Full of tabasco, 2018 is off and away, poised to embark on its future. And ours.
So much ground to cover, so many discoveries around each bend in the road! And everything seems doable.
Shown here are only a few peaks of the Range of Possibilities.
Rhinos do not have any clear picture of what is going on inside Us. We eat, We gurgle, We poop; that’s the whole shebang.
Still, when we feel queasy, We imagine what’s up. The diagrams We concoct don’t fool anybody, but they can be oddly comforting at the time.
Please bear in mind that each of Us is both Patient and Physician. We just get better, or We don’t, and that is that.
Wishing you and yours a Happy Holiday, and many Sugar Plums at bedtime.
“Oh ho ho”, says Your Inner Rhino!