On the far corner of my hall hangs a giant poster. Janeway is leading her crew through the unknown. Spruced up so nice, you could mistake it for a wall. My cupboard of skeletons. Beware, uncover the secret at your own risk! Sometimes though, I wonder why we don't just accept: aren't we all about the mean? Good man. On average, I am. White crows, do exist! Everyone knows but crows are black. Of course the extent counts. Of deviance I mean. But trust, you must. I am a monkey that learned to think. So are you. I learn my religion, I learn my culture. I learn to act: my part in the Play. Life is a rule-bound game we choose to accept. I rebel too. When the rules aren't fun no more. Isn't that true of me as of you? Meantime, meanwhile, mean love. On the average lets seek:
'Mean Time' is one of Britain's poet-laureate Carol Ann Duffy's excellent early anthologies: I had an idea for a different play on the title, presented here :)
Exceptions such as white crows are used in ancient Indian philosophical tracts to convey fallacies in reasoning.