"Two times two--eternal lovers;
Inseparable in passion four ...
Most flaming lovers in the world,
Eternally welded, two times two."
And the rest is in the same vein: on the wisdom and the eternal
happiness of the multiplication table. Every poet is inevitably
a Columbus. America existed before Columbus for ages, but only
Columbus found it. The multiplication table existed before R-13
for ages, but only R-13 could find in the virginal forest of
figures a new Eldorado. Is it not true? Is there any happiness
more wise and cloudless in this wonderful world? Steel may rust.
The ancient god created the ancient man, i.e., the man capable
of mistakes, _ergo_ the ancient god himself made a mistake. The
multiplication table is more wise and more absolute than the ancient
god, for the multiplication table never (do you understand--_never_)
makes mistakes! There are no more fortunate and happy people than
those who live according to the correct, eternal laws of the
multiplication table. No hesitation! No errors! There is but one
truth, and there is but one path to it; and that truth is: four,
and that path is: two times two. Would it not seem preposterous for
these happily multiplied twos suddenly to begin thinking of some
foolish kind of freedom? i.e. (is it not clear?) of a mistake? It
seems undeniable, axiomatic, that R-13 knows how to grasp the most
fundamental, the most....
At that moment again I felt (first near the back of my head, then
on my left ear) the warm, tender breath of the Guardian-Angel. He
apparently noticed that the book on my lap had long been closed and
that my thoughts were somewhere very far.... Well, I am ready this
minute to spread before him the pages of my brain. This gives one
such a feeling of tranquility and joy. I remember I even turned
around and gazed long and questioningly into his eyes; but either
he did not understand, or he did not want to understand me. He did
not ask me anything.... The only thing left for me is to relate
everything to you, my unknown readers. You are to me now as dear and
as near and as far out of reach as he was at that moment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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