In a cafe in Louisville a couple days ago, I was privy to the mad genius of a man with a wild beard, a pot belly, and a fishing T-shirt, holding forth solo at a table by the door. I paid no attention at first. But after a while, I started to listen, drawn in by the repeated evocation of Elmer Fudd. I strained my ears and this is what I picked up. I started transcribing.
I look in the mirror and I see the Elmer Fudd staring back.
You don’t see the Elmer Fudd staring back.
He doesn’t see the Elmer Fudd staring back.
Nobody sees the Elmer Fudd staring back.
The world around us, it’s all…
[pause to listen to unspoken question]
I don’t have anybody who can truly see.
[pause]
There may be, but I’m not aware of them.
After working through it for a while longer, along with some digressions about Will Smith and villainy, the guy genuinely nailed it. If I had to distill his brilliance down to one line, here it is. Think of all the people this exactly encapsulates:
The guy is a cartoon. But he doesn’t see the cartoon. He doesn’t see the Fudd.
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