There Goes My Gun

The Best There Is is not, and never actually will be. To insist upon this is to install a ceiling which caps and contains the realm of possibility therein. To insist upon a best anything implies not only that there isn't, but that there never will be a better. Under context, fine. It is the best to date, sure. But if you dare assert such a claim, there ought to be an evidential dissertation, at the very least an unassuming explanation, to portray your manifest representation as the best. Even then, the implication is not that the method is a limitation, but that it is a challenge to come up with something that meets, nay, excels in comparison to the present pinnacle of pristine performance. There is no ceiling, and I'll be damned if there ever is one. There is no higher echelon, merely the tallest platform on which to stand another ladder. To accept anything as the best way implies that you are finished. If you are finished, please remove yourself from your seat and allow someone else to play, because your acceptance is not necessarily theirs. If you are finished, you have nothing more to contribute. If you are finished, there shall be no growth for you. If you are finished, you shall remain stagnant. To a few, this is entirely unnacceptable. To impose the peak as the end and no higher is to damn those below to a ceiling most unbecoming of the potential that may be laying dormant below. Give me the sky, and I'll give you the stars. Give me the mansion, I'll give you the Attic. Give me the sink, I'll give you the kitchen. Just don't put a goddamned box over my head and tell me to jump around. There's no grace in that.