If I was ever suddenly struck blind ("I'll light the sparklers, guys!"), I'll tell you what I'd do:
Bang into things; fall down stairs.
After that, I'd begin prophesying things all of the time.
Because blind people in all epic poems tend to know a little more than those with working rods and cones.
It's the same principle, but I won't be so keen on announcing people's doom.
No one likes a sour puss.
"Warford sure has been a negative Nancy since he lost his vision."
I'll already be unable to watch foreign films since I can't read the subtitles.
I don't need my friends ditching me to hang out with fun, sighted people as well.
Anyway.
Yes.
Prophesying.
Not the stock market, or who's going to play in the new Hardy Boys movie.
But individual prophesies for people that I know.
Declaring that they're going to win free bags of chips if they send in enough Kool-Aid points.
And that their car's radiator is going to need replacement in 2017.
Stuff like that.
The way I "see" it, I keep making predictions, I'm bound to hit on one eventually.
Then, see, I'm a blind person with a gimmick.
People really like that sort of thing.
Just ask Jeff Healey.
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