51, ah yes, the number fifty-one. It’s not a very exciting number. It’s not phenomenal at all. There is nothing all that thrilling about this number. It was not even a part of some great year. What is the important historical signifigance of 1951, 1851, 1751, 1651, 1551, 1451, 1351, 1251, 1151, 1051, 951, 851, 751, 651, 551, 451, 351, 251, 151, 51, etc. Nothing of any real importance whatsoever occurred during any one of those years. So, why do I speak of the number 51? The answer to that is simple—I do not know. Nobody knows, really. One theory says it could be that 51 is my lucky number, even though it is not and especially not given the fact that I am not at all superstitious. Another theory says that it could have something to do with wh… no, sorry, that’s ridiculous. Whales off the shores of Alaska have nothing to do with the number 51—as far as I know.
To be perfectly honest, the saddest thing about all of this is that this page. This very page right here that you appear to be reading, may prove to be the most important thing that has ever happened to the number 51. I mean, imagine it, put yourself in 51’s shoes—be careful when you do though, make not of 51’s shape; one shoe is bigger than the other—ever since you were imagined, born, conjured up, and/or invented you have been useless. You have been nothing but the number after a very important number. Then all of the sudden someone, right out of nowhere, takes an entire page and dedicates it to you…
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