“Tricksters bring in the opposite and break the stalemate.” Robert Johnson

Larry rides a stick pony. Let’s face it—Larry is a loser. But so is Vicki. Swami came to live with her anyway. He has stuck it out far longer than I ever thought he could or would. They have grown to look alike but one doesn’t look any more alike than the other. There are some remarkable distinctions, however.

Vicki doesn’t wear bedsheets, ever.
Vicki doesn’t hang out in the Sleep Department at Macy’s
Vicki knows the difference between the real and the unreal.

Swami wears bedsheets often.
Swami hangs out at Macy’s.
Swami doesn’t know the difference between the real and the unreal. (This is what makes him a swami. He really doesn’t know that he is typed into existence and typed right out again. He doesn’t know that when my hard drive crashed I lost a good part of his life. He can’t get it back and yet he doesn’t know or care. He keeps on truckin’….)

Vicki sometimes sits at the keyboard, having eaten 3 Fun-Sized Three Musketeers and 3 Tootsie Roll Midgees, with nothing better to do than write about a little fake guru. Swami Z can do nothing about it, even though he knows that she doesn’t need to be doing that.

Vicki has been advised that once she lets Swami leap out of the book, her life will change. All she can do is nervously crave 3 more Fun-Sized Three Musketeers.