Public Bench Philosophers
“He Started with Bagel Complaints. Now He’s Our Prophet.”
What began as harmless lunchtime mutterings has evolved into a cult-like following as Clarence Duggins, 61, spends every afternoon delivering unscheduled wisdom from a chipped concrete bench outside the civic library. With a loyal crowd of freelancers, confused teens, and at least six pigeons, Clarence’s bench sermons now attract a rotating crowd of locals desperate for truth–or at least distraction.
“He once said, ‘Wi-Fi is a false god. Ethernet is eternal,'” said graphic designer Leo Torres. “I haven’t used wireless since.”
Clarence denies he’s a guru. “I just tell it like it is,” he said between rants about nonstick pans and the rising price of raisins. “People bring me snacks and ask about their purpose. I tell them to compost and call their mother.”
His teachings include: “Time is fake, soup is real,” “Never trust a man with two umbrellas,” and “You are the coupon you seek.” One woman claimed he cured her seasonal depression by handing her a loose cashew and saying, “This is who you were all along.”
City officials tried to install a plaque that reads “Designated Ramble Zone,” but Clarence declined the honor, citing “spiritual zoning restrictions.”
He now sells self-published zines with names like *Benchmarks of Truth* and *Foldout Philosophy for People Who Forget Their Passwords.*
Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.
