Jam Session: Slow and Low

Slow and Low

The following is a transcript from a seminar given on the Bugaloo Flu.

The Bugaloo Flu is not like a fever and not like a cold; it was also named by the first person to run afoul of it, whom I’m sure you can guess was not very old. Parental testimony and educational records suggest that prior to the sickness Patient Zero was a normal child, but interviews of his peers are not consistent with that idea.

The children were eager to volunteer information because they felt they were doing so to help a friend, but it is vital to note that their affections were the one-sided reflexive fabrications that always appear in the wake of notoriety; Zero was a relaxed loner, complacent in isolation with a natural aptitude for meditation. I’ve cross-referenced the truth from what they said and am confident that all it took to send Zero off on a mental journey was a mundane suggestion, ‘close the window’, or ‘sit where you want.’ The importance of this will become clear later.

Back to the timeline – sort of. A half indulgence, if you will. Contrary to popular belief, Zero did not develop his abstract way of speaking after the symptoms surfaced. It has been proven through cellular analysis that Zero was in an active, dangerous state for an entire month before saying something the Bugaloo Flu could actually make come true. This is not a beginner’s class, we’re all familiar with the subject here, but this illness is my most passionate subject of study because of how it manages to encapsulate existence, entropy, existentialism – I’ll stop that rant, it will have to suffice to say that the Bugaloo Flu, the illness that makes whatever the sufferer says come true, is a veritable marvel of the world.

I hear the murmurs, am aware that my enthusiasm and apparent positivity is invested in something that has brought significant misery to this world; please, be patient. If you wade through the admittedly heavy influx of thought I believe you’ll see that it was all in the name of aiding you in the future navigation of these treacherous waters.

The circumstances that brought Zero to the attention to the medical world are important here too; in jest, he told a sizable acquaintance that he, Zero, grew bigger than the giant when exposed to sunlight. This nonsense was muttered during recess on an overcast day and was presumably forgotten by all parties involved until the clouds broke during class time and a ray of sunshine fell on Zero’s arm. He looked down to find the limb growing like a plant in a time lapse video; his reaction was calm and measured, further evidence to support my earlier summation of his nature, a simple raise of the elongated arm to ask for permission to go to the nurse. But doing so moved it from the sun and reversed the growth – he told the teacher he’d forgotten his question when called on.

He experimented the rest of day, found that what he said proved true for any part of his body exposed; upon returning home he informed his mother, and after a demonstration was rushed to the hospital, where, after another demonstration, he was surrounded by a ring of doctors.

There was a professional representative for of the medical sciences and each was speechless, questioning lifetimes’ worth of knowledge because of what they’d seen after opening and closing cheap curtains. Zero, used to it by then, sensed their distress and assured them that things would be alright, that what they were witnessing was just ‘a little case of the Bugaloo Flu.’ Most likely worried that Zero had just suffered a stroke a neurologist asked him why he’d said that; Zero smiled and shrugged, the name stuck – it was equally nonsensical as its symptoms and method of spreading.

Zero was quarantined, and on his own initiative began to exaggerate his abstract way of speaking into phrases impossible for the Bugaloo Flu to catalyze into reality. From the moment he entered the hospital to the second documented case his every second was recorded – during that time he was not responsible for a single alteration of reality, and anybody that says otherwise, that Zero was responsible for the others, can be dismissed as a conspiracy theorist that wishes that same sickness would befall them.

After finding that everything she said came true the second case won every lottery in the world for a month straight before being gagged, bound, robbed, then killed on one of her yachts. The third went crazy, cut out their own tongue then drank what they bled until they drowned. The fourth went the same way as the second, albeit in a different order, the fifth is not to be mentioned in civilized scenarios – the list of lives claimed by the Bugaloo Flu is one name short of being all-inclusive of its sufferers.

Zero remains. At least, I believe he does. His disappearance from the public eye was most likely a planned retreat to somewhere he’d finally be able to speak freely.

But his current activities are not the concern of our talk, which, I assure you, is coming to a conclusion. Considering the evidence and connections I have presented I believe it reasonable to state that Zero survived what proved fatal to so many others because of his intuitive grasp of the tempo of existence, his willingness to operate slow and low, sway with the ebb and flow of the universe.

Perhaps it is because the syndrome surfaced during childhood, when still young and able to recover from injuries, Zero’s body was able to adapt to an otherwise fatal mutation; there are, after all, many more impressive examples of the human spirit enduring much more torturous hardships.

Perhaps this talk was given too soon, and Zero will turn up as dead as the rest of those who contracted the Bugaloo Flu.

My favorite perhaps, though, is that I am right. That Zero survived because of how willing he was to let go; it is therefore my recommendation that all cases of Bugaloo Flu be treated with intense courses of contemplation and meditation. A person only survives the danger they create for themselves by knowing what they are capable of.

End

—Back To Jam Session—

jamsessioncoverslowandlow

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