When will you deliver?
It depends; it’s what we have all heard at one time or another, as a non-answer to the question: When will you deliver? We know the reaction in the eyes of the one who asked — that eye-rolling expression of disapproval. But he is dissatisfied not because he doubts the answer. No, he knows it depends. He disapproves because it’s a low blow.
Now, in this ring of fighters who don’t know how to fight, fouls were committed just before the first round. This is a tie between two disqualified contenders, now qualified by the master of ceremony who enters the ring without enthusiasm to explain to the ladies and gentlemen and the spotlights. Shortely thereafter, when interviewed or frustrated or cornered by microphones, a supernatural force — perhaps from the energy unused in the fight — pulls their answers in synchronicity: I will not ask, and, I will not answer. Ain’t gonna be no rematch!
Fifteen minutes of this film pass and something new happens. There will be a rematch. And they start the show, now with eyes of the tiger. And so begins a sequel, of deliveries, that sells tickets, of fights with no faults. Part II, part III, part IV, and the rest is history.
This is, perhaps, not far from how it goes in real life. In real life, the fight is inside. In real life, it depends is not accepted and game is over. In real life, we too need something for the spotlights and microphones. In real life our eyes of the tiger are given. It rarely depends.