I know, I know, Blogoshpere, I have been most negligent in enlightening you with my thoughts, lately. Suffice it to say, I have been preoccupied. There's a new cat in town, and to quote my favourite film genre, this town ain't big enough for the both of us... literally. My nemesis comes in the form of--stop me if this sounds familiar--a very large-framed tuxedo cat. Granted, he is long-haired, while my coat is trim and neat; but the fact remains that he--Pablo, they call him--is cramping my style.
Although I am not pleased with Pablo's arrival, I did have a moment of epiphany which gave me pause (no, not 'paws'--puns are beneath me.) It occurred to me, Blogoshpere, that every protagonist needs an antagonist. Every--dare I say--hero needs a nemesis. Far be it for me to upset the balance of the universe. And so, alas, though I do not celebrate his arrival, I humbly submit to the primordial dance of good and evil. Think about it. Where would Roy Hobbs (Robert Redford in The Natural) have been if not for a weird, gun-wielding seductress?... Okay, happily married to his high-school sweetheart, and enjoying major league success, but that's not a very good story. Where would Hamlet be without Claudius? Sherlock Holmes without Professor Moriarty? Suerpman sans Lex Luthor? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid without the Bolivian Cavalry? I'll warrant, their lives may have progressed more peacefully, but where is the poetry in that?
I have yet to surmise in what way Pablo will plot against me, but I am certain he will. He is my antagonist. It is his raison d'etre. But rest assured, Blogoshpere, I am no shrinking violet.
By the way, if as you read this, you are trying and failing to figure out who is the evil archenemy in your plot, I have news: It's you.
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