Sir Bankwell Brokely Esquire III
1935-2009 ~

Over the years I've taken from the writings of Bankwell Brokely, a man of impeccable taste, that the grand tortoise of Galapagos is a beast of borrowed wisdom carrying with him thoughts that can't be weighed. He skates the land for ages, soaking up the miseries and pleasures of a living thing. It's this length of time and closeness to mother earth's damp labia majora that does it. But it can't be measured in pounds. Like the smoke in a cigar whose ashes are carefully gathered on a scale to win a bet, the weight of some things is hard to figure. The tortoise has a very heavy head filled with deep and heavy thoughts.

When our friend climbs a steep grade that topples him and renders him helpless on his back, it's the weight of his shell that matters, and not what's on his mind. What God shook up the world, to put such heavy things on our shoulders? Who smokes life's rich cigars and bucks the ashes? "Tip the scale, o' ye of little taste," says the perfect master.

Sir Brokely... you fell on your back and died close to mother earth, now may your soul recline forever in the stars.

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