Wednesday, October 27, 2004

An Observation

The reason that nice guys finish last is that they stop to wash their hands after using the restroom.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

I need an Orange Safety Vest

So this is like me first post in several months or so becasue I'm lazy and generally suck at writing in a timely fashion. Then again, maybe I just haven't had anything clever to say, and "if you don't have something clever to say... don't say anything at all..." or something like that, but then I always hated that saying, because sometimes you really do need to say something nasty, and it's the nasty mean people telling you to keep quiet that need to hear something nasty said... I digress.

Can you digress from a point you haven't even started on yet?

Anyway... Orange Safety Vest... I need one. Lemme sum up. Liz is driving me to work this morning, and I'm looking out the window at stuff beside the road at the traffic light. One of the things I see is a big, concrete-lined drainage ditch leading into a large drain pipe that has several metal bars across the opening to presumably keep trees and stuff from washing into the cavernous drain. So I'm thinking it might be cool to just lay down on top of the bars and let my arms hang down through the openings. Then I think that maybe that's kinda strange, and that people would constantly be stopping and asking if I was all right which would distract me from my enjoyment of just hanging out on the drain bars. Then I have a flash of brilliance!

If I was wearing an Orange Safety Vest, and maybe a hardhat (Liz suggested a toolbelt too), nobody would question why I was there. They'd just assume that I was there working on something and ignore me. That way my absurd behavior would fit easily into their perception of reality. They might just drive on to work, wondering what was wrong with the drain pipe. If they saw me there often enough, they might call in to their local radio morning show and complain that the city was wasting their tax dollars on projects that never seemed to get finished, but they wouldn't call 911 and tell them that some guy had collapsed in the drainage ditch and needed medical assistance.

I'm guessing that 5 minutes after seeing me they wouldn't even remember me at all.

Realtiy works that way. People can accept the most preposterous things, if presented to them in a manner that their perception of reality can accept. What if magic worked like that? A guy might leap up and fly through the air, but no one would be able to accept that it had happened... unless the report of it were followed with a chaser of "...oh, but one guy said that the other guy was a fake, and that it was done with wires". The unbelieving brain can then dismiss the troubling report, and the miracle can occur in the first place. That is if you believe time runs both ways, but of course that's just silly.

I need an Orange Safety Vest.