Arcadia is all about perspective.
Imagine a large goldfish in a bowl, one where there it finds itself surrounded by the fluttering fins of smaller minnows around it. This fish would be, relative to its coinhabitants, an absolute monster. Big enough to push them around, shoving them out of the way and gobbling up all of the delicious pellets itself.
What could the minnows do? This goldfish is bigger than them, stronger, faster. It is their god and they should be humble enough to thank it for allowing them to feast on the scraps that pollute their waters.
Yet, to you and I, what do we view the goldfish as? Do we see it as something worthy of worship? Or is the fish merely a child’s pet swimming in its own little world?
In fact, imagine I reached into the bowl and snatched this big bully fish out of the waters?
It’d be unable to breathe.
It’d be terrified.
And therein lies the paradox of perspective. No matter how big you think you are, there will always be someone, something, bigger and badder lying in wait.
Sometimes, they’re something you could never even comprehend.
You’re a man who is gold of scales and loud of mouth, Spiros. From the shiny glasses upon your face to the vulgarity on the mic you’re a shining example of what perspective does to a man that cannot comprehend his place in the world.
When you joined OSW you thought you were infallible, didn’t you? To your socialite friends and wealthy parents you were the greatest, the godlike being that could very well do anything he wanted and get away with it.
Only, once you stepped foot into Olympus, things changed didn’t they?
Colt Ramsey put your shoulders to the mat.
And the heretical Lionel Troy made you zero and two.
It was a shock, wasn’t it? Up until now, you were a large fish in a small bowl and you couldn’t handle not being able to push your new coinhabitants around like you did with everyone else in your life. You were the greatest, the Greek God, and yet those around you were finally putting up a fight!
Though, perhaps most hilarious of all, you’ve never been more out of your depth than when you’ve faced me, Spiros.
Unlike you, I embrace the paradox that is our reality. I am the human dipping his hands into your tank, forcing you onto dry land and watching you flounder with glee. I know you cannot breathe, I know you can’t even comprehend what’s happening to you.
And you never will.
I know I am not the largest being, nor the one with the most power at the moment. Narcissa rises above even myself at the moment.
But I am aware of it. And one day, I know I shall be in her place.
Nothing is black and white, Spiros.
And as you lay floundering on the mat beneath me, all you shall see is gray.