Well, Cackle Fersus got up that morning and forever afterwards swore something was bent about the day. Nothing has seemed straight or screwed on all the way ever since, and probably won't ever be, unless he can find the True Monopole.
The morning started out with what was left of a dream that night where he was hainted by his ancient elmer, GW3GW, reminding him from the old country that the path to prosperity and pure signals on Top Band could only be had by using a True Monopole, and speaking only True English into a True Microphone. Cackle wasn't too bothered by the True English or True Microphone specifications, since he had gotten into nearly exclusive CW, which was not rectified into "wron wo kro" in the telephone, radio and phonograph of left, across street, and right neighbors respectively. But the True Monopole haint bothered Cackle greatly as he had imperfect early life memories of experts pronouncing that only vertical monopoles could really give one true happiness on Top Band. All the experts had seemed very tall, and coincidentally rather monopolish themselves. Consequently that day, Cackle gathered himself up and did something he hadn't done for years since he was cramming for his Extra license. He got down his dusty, but still not filled spiral notebook, his EZ-Squeeze pen, and headed off downtown to the big technical library at Old U to get the True English definition of the True Monopole. How could one possibly do a True Search for the True Monopole unless one knew the True Definition. He was not at all prepared for what the search would cost him. But that wasn't a True Monopole. It was, Cackle realized with sorrowful regret, a whole pole plus part of a pole in the hole. It was a One Point One Pole. Morals of the Tale: You can't do a push without a pull, or a pull without a push, and to get it out, you first have to put it in. So a Monopole can NEVER be True. But Cackle understood the haint's good intentions, since the True Monopole could only be found by not finding. The True Monopole So the True Monopole is like a snipe, whose superlative non-existence is only understood in the not-finding in the hunt. Or it's like Upstate New York, that never exists where it's pointed to, and only upon the southern banks of the St. Lawrence river do you understand that the term itself was a benign Canadian advertising scheme to get you to come up and tour Canada. or monopole experts -- you get out there and actually start looking for them, they can't be found. _______________________________________________ UR RST IS ... ... ..9 QSB QSB - hw? BK
