a Trapeze Artist (or two), in 15.4 seconds.
I suppose we could have gotten by with one, but nobody goes to the circus to watch somebody swinging back and forth on a bar. The “woo” of watching a trapeze artist is in the moment at which they commit to leaping to another bar, or into somebody else’s hands—as that somebody hangs, swinging from another bar, by their knees. The trapeze artist, standing on the floor, is all concealed talent—they are a stockbroker in a halloween costume. Even hanging from the bar, they are just playing a role, laying in wait. The two moments, I’d argue, that a trapeze artist is the Fastest Possible Trapeze Artist (in his or her ideal state) are:
- Standing on the platform, waiting to jump
- At the apex of the swing, committed to the leap
When you look at it that way, the Fastest Possible Trapeze Artist is all about the thrill of commitment. Nobody knows that the jump will go perfectly—it’s very possible that the trapeze artist will fall limp into the net—but he will absolutely, at those two moments, believe that everything is flying in lockstep, and that there will be something solid at the tips of his fingers when he lets go. That’s the fellow on the right, with the “woo”, as you might have guessed.
Ladies and Gentlemen! Boys and Girls! In the center ring, The Fastest Possible Trapeze Artist!
