The Road Trip

 "I want to see all the most beautiful overlooks and look at all the pretty flowers."
"Do you have a list of spots where you want to go?"
"No, I just want to experience what there is where we go, and go the places with experiences."
"Well, what about a quantitative approach... Can you think of some kind of standard, some factor we want to maximize?"
"I want to see a lot. I want to hear a lot. I want to feel the world."
"Hmm... it sounds like you want to optimize altitude, then. The higher you go, the more you can see, the more wind there is,"
"--the more world there is."
"Sure, sure. Now, it looks like the tallest point nearby is Mount Coleomegilla. However, Mount Coleomegilla is on top of a large plateau, the sixty-mile across Coccinella plateau, so even though it is objectively tall above sea level, you might not be able to see a lot."
"Okay, so where would be better?"
"Hmmm. Here's a list of potential destinations. The second-highest point is Xylocopa Ridge. That should be good, it's the biggest slope for our purposes."
"That sounds nice."
"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"
"Wait, can I drive?"
"I'm already sitting in the driver's seat. It'd be faster for me to just stay here. Also, I'm a more objective driver. I don't get distracted by nuances or philosophies."
"Yeah, but it's no fun when you drive. You always take the most direct route, like going on interstates instead of more scenic but less efficient highways. Anyway, you already drove from Santa Ceratina to our hotel in Los Anopheles."
"Let's just get there already."
"---"
"No! Let go of the steering wheel! If you have such a problem driving with me, you can get out of the car and walk!"
"Grumble."
"Ah, such a beautiful day. The pressure is about 90 kiloPascals, the temperature is about 30 degrees Centigrade. And there's not a cloud to be seen, 360 degrees around."
"You passive-aggressive maniac! Get us back on the road."
"I said no! Please let go of the steering wheel."
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"
"Are you alright? Why are you yelling? I can hear you just fine, you know."
"You drove us right off of the road? Are you out of your mind?"
"There's practically nothing growing here, the land is flat if we go around the rock mounds, and the car can handle it. This is the fastest way to get to Xylocopa Ridge."
"I guess this qualifies as a mind-opening experience."
"Glad to be of help. I expect we should be there in about an hour if we don't stop."
"Don't count on it."



"Wow, I love looking at these mesas everywhere."
"Table landforms exhibit an unusual geometry to be sure."
"Hey, stop the car! Check out that flower bush over there!"
"It hardly qualifies as a bush, I think, but here you go."
"Thanks for driving up to it so close! Do you want to come out and see?"
"No, I'm fine. Help yourself. I'll just open the window so that we can still communicate."
"This yellow, I proclaim, is more yellow than the most verdant green is green. This yellow excommunicates the mind, it makes one think that one hallucinates. This yellow dominates the landscape. It conquers my mental landscape, it rivals the sun which is not nearly so yellow. The magnificence of this aureate radiant yellow redeems the sins of humanity, the flaws in creation. Never has a man or woman seen such a yellow. By which god did the desert earth commit this larceny? Why, this yellow is yellow perfectly."
"Come on, that's hyperbole."




"Good for you, you've done your thing, can we go now?"
"I'm just getting started. Why, look at that large black carpenter bee?"
"I see it. I also hear it. It's wings create a vibration that's audible to the ear of fictionally-embodied metaphysical constructs."
"Hello, bee. You're a carpenter bee, you have your tools and you seem happy. Were you perchance ever in Illinoyeez? I hear that Mr. Sutton used to build cabinets. But no, the carpenter bees in Illinoyeez have a yellow pronotum, and a yellow first tergite, while you, my friend, come now, are not colored so light. Why are you flying closer to me, carpenter bee? Do you think that I might be a tree? Perhaps you would have fun making cabinets out of a mesquite, perhaps, or out of the petrified wood one hears about around here. I don't see any of these around--did you take me for a tree because you're desperate? Either way, it's clear to me, that you, my friend, you need a tree, or else, what kind of carpenter bee would you be? I will go with you now. Together we will find a tree. This is my vow."
"And how?"
"The bee will walk and I will fly. For though the bee has wings and I the longer legs,"
"--you can soar and create afresh in a dimension perpendicular to that to which the bee is confined! I see what you're getting at. You and I are a fictionally-embodied metaphysical constructs that were created by Even when he wrote this vignette, and although we may be fictional, you mean to suggest that your metaphysical aspect would allow you to manipulate reality, and possibly even intercede with Even to alter the plot of this story."
"I would indeed. I would create a grove of trees, with wood just right, for the carpenter bees, I surely might."
"I suppose this means that we won't be going to Xylocopa Ridge anytime soon. You can set off with the bee for the right spot, and I'll follow you in the car, if you're ready to go."
"Actually, I think Xylocopa Ridge would be the perfect spot! You just have to consider the name's origin."



Poetry and the carpenter bee travel in the direction of the afternoon sun. Mathematics follows in their car, which makes no sound due to the fact that it is a hybrid and is currently using the electric motor.