the monkey in the cage

I remember going to a mall in Waco, Texas and seeing a baboon in a cage on display. The trainer was nearby, answering questions from the crowd of onlookers.

Inside the cage, the baboon paced back and forth. It grunted, mumbled, slapped its head, and slapped the metal bars. It was agitated, restless, and trapped. It was in despair at being confined to a cage. It was helpless.

I identified with that baboon, I identified with the cage.

I still do.

That's why I rattle it...

and dammit, I'm going to show you, dear reader, that the cage can be opened.