so that's what the clowns are for

I have this friend at work who says the most outrageous things. I don't know anyone like him. He has a habit of making spontaneous, bizarre -- but strangely comprehensive -- pronouncements about odd and obscure things.

One time, I wrote down something he said and emailed it to him. He was incredulous. "Wow. I'm insane" he said. And he probably is. But he has a sweet and non-threatening demeanor, and I don't think he's a danger to society.

Tonight after work, around 7pm, I was sitting alone on the sofa in our office's open-concept kitchen/lounge having a restful moment. This odd friend of mine appeared and chatted with me for a bit about how being an architect would be thankless work that would fill your heart with hate. There was a bit of silence, and he placed an empty glass on the edge of the counter. Then he crouched low and pushed it off the counter, but half-caught and tapped it lightly with his hand near the floor as it fell, so that it tumbled to the ground.

"Just enough to save its life."

I waited. Here it comes, I thought. A really good one. And how richly rewarded I was when, with a straight face and in all earnestness, he stated:

"It's like how trapeze artists, when they're performing without a net, they always have clowns around. If a trapeze artist falls during a performance, a clown will run up to them as they're falling and punch them - with the real intention of hurting them, and of hurting themselves - so that they'll go limp before they hit the ground. It's how they don't die."

If you think that's good, you should hear his theory about gin and vitamins.