Imagine

A man in his mid-60s wearing a dark suit walks through a genteel urban neighborhood on his lunch break, feeding crows here and there but mainly scanning the skies for the Attack Crow, which he is trying to befriend by feeding it before it can attack him.

His head swivels like one of those big antennas that swivel so much.

A little old lady with great hair and looking very fit in tight jeans (little old ladies are not what they used to be) with a little old dog on a leash follows the man around and finally cuts him off on a street corner and just regards him, as if waiting for him to recognize her, or slowly realizing the man she thought she recognized is a stranger — the man is not sure, and wonders if she is just going to reprimand him for feeding nasty crows, or complain about it, but she finally, after standing there staring at him, just says,

“Grüß Gott!” to which he replies “Guten Tag!” and after an uncomfortable pause that he cannot parse both go on their way; the man guessing it was a case of mistaken identity, maybe? like maybe he has a doppelgänger in the neighborhood (because this happens on a regular basis, strangers greeting him with odd familiarity) that all these people now think is unfriendly or he is getting really bad at remembering faces.

Or maybe she was just giving him an impromptu psych eval because he looked suspicious or crazy because he was looking over his shoulder and up at the sky and the roofs of buildings because he was in the territory of the attacking crow?

Because, seriously, for 2-3 blocks it feels like a forgotten episode from the Twilight Zone TV series which, auspiciously, began the same year the man did, 1959, and ran until 1964, the year he entered school and gave up hope for humanity.

Rod Serling pitching his idea for the episode: Imagine if you will a man on the cusp of retirement losing his mind because of a crow that attacks only him for some unknown reason.

TV network executive: Rod that doesn’t make any fucking sense. Rod, that makes no goddamned sense at all.

Earthling gridlock pyramid blossom hypersymbol eyeball eyeball snip

Interim report from

Planetary federation humanoid observation team Gridlock 0-1

On subject: Earthling gridlock pyramid blossom hypersymbol eyeball eyeball snip

Urgency: low

Justification for expending further resources on continued observation: lacking

Situation: Subject is eliminating sugar, refined carbohydrates, alcohol, tobacco and processed treats from his diet, but keeps forgetting. Had two beers (Stari Brno) with daughters last night. Shared sandwich (white bread) with birds this afternoon (does seem to have achieved success with tobacco, however) following an inspection by dermatologist who was interested not in  his skin but in his subjective evaluation of the success of a skin medication she had subscribed (subject’s evaluation: ‘about 50 or 60 percent’) and in any side-effects such as headaches, depression or suicidal ideation, and whether any of these had been present prior to taking the medication and whether he was under treatment or care for the latter to which he said, no, he wasn’t.

Earthling gridlock pyramid blossom hypersymbol eyeball eyeball snip, during the inspection, ideated a conversation between himself and the skin specialist in which he tried to express the ongoing competition between depression and melancholy for his mind, and how rosacea had tipped the scales to depression, thanks to his intense humanoid vanity, for which reason he had looked up the skin specialist to see if any treatment was available, which it was, ironically with above-mentioned side-effects, together with an entire booklet of other side-effects.

Six of one half dozen of the other, in other words. But subject only ideated this conversation, being unable to actually hold such a discussion in the agitated, anxious state this particular doctor somehow engenders in him.

Subject then returned to his place of employment, ideating a discussion with a clone of himself over whether it was better to concentrate on being a person, or on a man, woman, or whatever else anchors one’s self-image – athlete, worker, clown, whatever. Discussion was inconclusive,  although subject expressed a preference for personhood.

Subject briefly detected PF Observation team camouflaged as parasitic mistletoe in a large elm tree, necessitating deletion of 30 seconds of memory, which caused mild temporal disorientation (‘a sensation of timelessness,’ as subject expressed it in another ideation) but no serious lasting damage.