I Couldn't Tell If I Was Perspicacious

...where's The Skill In Being A Hero If You Were Always Destined To Do It?

Old Stories Would Tell How Weavers Would Kill Each Other Over Aesthetic Disagreements, Such As Whether It Was Prettier To Destroy An Army Of A Thousand Men Or To Leave It Be, Or Whether A Particular Dandelion Should Or Should Not Be Plucked. For A Weaver, To Think Was To Think Aesthetically. To Act - To Weave - Was To Bring About More Pleasing Patterns. They Did Not Eat Physical Food: They Seemed To Subsist On The Appreciation Of Beauty.

Ever Since I Was Two, I've Loved Octopuses, Monsters, Abandoned Buildings.

I Always Felt Sorry For The Sidekick As A Kid. They Never Got Their Due And It Left A Very Bad Taste In The Mouth - They Are Defined By A Subordinate Relationship To Someone Else. I Always Felt Like A Bit Of Sidekick When I Was A Kid And It Didn't Feel Fair.

My Parents Were Hippies, And The Story Is That They Went Through A Dictionary Looking For A Beautiful Word To Name Me. They Nearly Called Me Banyan, But Flipped A Few Pages On And Reached "china," Thankfully. The Other Reason They Liked It Is That "china" Is Cockney Rhyming Slang For "mate." People Say "my Old China," Meaning "my Old Mate," Because "china Plate" Rhymes With "mate.