The crazy man jumped on the short wall of the park, looked around him at the crowd on the street, watching them for moments until attention found its way toward him. The sun made some passersby shadow their eyes as they stared at him. Then, his shouting was heard. “You, that hat-wearing man there.” He pointed at a man on the other side of the street, and the fellow stopped his strides to have a curious look at the him. “Do you think I’m an schizophrenic illusion?” He waited, as if for an answer, and when nothing other than more curious expressions came, he continued. “No? But isn’t that more rational? Don’t you think it’s more logical for us all to be images, puppets, chess pieces, mouses in a lab, roller coasters in your amusement park, and for you to be God? Why, there is never anything but you and your eyes and your thoughts. Don’t you ever think, when you make love to your wife, that she is how the God satisfies himself? Don’t you wonder how flawed a God you are? How utterly detestable you are? Aren’t you an animal of your desires, and us the unreal fulfillments of them? Oh, how glad I am that you’ll never be satisfied and fulfilled, my divine friend, for that would mean the end of me; the end of the universe even. But if you were fulfilled, if somehow satisfaction came to your almightiness, wouldn’t you then find Adam in his heaven, smiling and eating apples in hundreds, with no earth to be sent to? Wouldn’t the turtle then lose its balance and let the dirt ball fall into the infinity of nothingness? Wouldn’t you then grin at the scientists, only a vague memory then, and at how absurdly they’d groped through centuries in search of the laws you had made up to let your boredom rest? Oh, how well you have succeeded. Only though, after the initial realization, you’ll be bored again, the infinite cycle of satisfaction gone with its universe, and you’ll create another dark ocean with shiny dots and dirt balls full of seas and lives, you’ll make another place of amusement for yourself, and you’ll fool yourself and go back there until you hear a madman scream at you on the street. Then, perhaps, you’ll become bored again.”
At that moment, the crazy man was pulled down from the wall by two strong, white-donned men and pulled into an ambulance. He looked out with wide-open eyes and agitated limbs that seemed of another entity until the door was closed at him. The car then drove away toward an asylum few blocks away. The pedestrians resumed their movement and the hatted man walked into a building to attend his business meeting.