11: Juggling

Juggling qualifies as another gnomish "sport," where you feel like perhaps you're doing something, but really you're merely distracting yourself and others -- which is entirely gnomish in character. Confession: I learned how to juggle as a boy, was given a Klutz Book on how to juggle, and taught myself. I never took to it, never got very good at it, never saw the point in it, but I learned the basic moves of juggling, little did I know that I was being exposed to gnomish agitprop. In fact, even the word "juggle" has a bit of a gnomish flavor to it.

The pointlessness of juggling, except to demonstrate what, precisely -- nimble fingers? Is exactly what makes it so gnomish. "Lighten up! Be whimsical with us!" the jugglers-in-public seem to say. "Look at me! I'm wacky!"

I can't fault clowns and street performers for using the gnomish art of juggling for their own devious ends -- no doubt clowns use juggling to appear less evil and perhaps to lure in innocent victims. But everyday folk, civilians, if you will, who engage in public juggling are infected by gnomish ideology.

When I bike along the lakeshore in the summer, I often see this juggling group of leathery men who occupy the same spot on the shore every damned day, juggling. Tennis balls, bowling pins, passing them between each other. Every day. Such clockwork whimsy!