regard

I used to think they hated me. It was either that or I tested as mentally challenged and was unaware of it. Those are the only two hypotheses I could think of that explain my parents complete lack of regard for my opinion.

Up until high school I got the distinct impression they were pretending I wasn’t there, or forcing—though they referred to it as suggesting—me to do things I had little interest in so that I may just go away. It was how I justified their non-reaction to all the great things I’d do to the house, my plan for a modest—thirty to forty foot wide—pool/patio area, the sweet clothes I insisted I should be wearing, my distaste for vegetables of almost all variety, and my polite suggestions to send my sisters away for extended periods of time.

In high school, that impression changed slightly, in favor of them trying to mold me into someone I’d likely punch in the neck. The evidence of this is the ten-o-clock curfew, the insistence that I play the trumpet despite my objections and complete failure to make improvement, and their habit of taking my stuff away—be it television, internet, or car—when I strayed too far from their ideal me. Due to their habits, their ignorance toward my greatness became mutual.

Unfortunately, I’ve learned that their guidance was for the better; even if I have doubts I’ll mention it directly. The time spent with the nerd swarm of band taught me how trivial most social relationships are. All the things I never got to do made me realize that most things aren’t as important as they seem at the time. And, though this one took a bit longer to sink in, most of the things the cool kids favored were hallow and typically void of any social merit. Because my parents didn’t allow me everything I wanted—or even a fraction in some cases—they taught me a level of consideration that seems lacking. I don’t take most people’s opinions to heart, but am still aware that others exist.

This makes me an outcast or, more appropriately, an oddity today. I’m surrounded by people who are driven by other people’s judgments, but have little to no concern for those same people. How can someone shape their entire worth around what a person thinks of them, but not have the decency to be even mildly considerate? This is a very common problem. The best way to exemplify why I’m so strange though, is to write out specific examples.

In their cars, people are invincible. They are also the most qualified drivers on the road whenever their wheels are on the pavement. The problem lies in most every driver having this same belief. In this way everyone is driving for themselves with contempt for anyone else. Not using their turn signals, cutting someone off, or riding the bumper of the car directly in front of them are symptoms of this. With these habits comes a lackadaisical attitude. Driving while curling their hair, text messaging, putting on makeup, and any other number of ridiculous activities not meant to be done behind the wheel.

The attitudes lead to social vampirism. People feel they should get whatever they like from those around them if they give little to nothing back. They take snacks and desserts, or drink beers, or borrow movies, or invite themselves along to gatherings, but have no appreciation for it. They expect these things to be okay and are surprised when an issue is brought up. If others do the similar to them they keep meticulous record and are acutely aware, but were this done to them they’d see it as distrust.

In a world of me-firsts there is no appreciation. Favors are expected and there is little regard to the other person’s circumstances. There’s likely no reciprocation or even a simple “thank you.” Other people are expected to pick up after them, but if they have to clean up for others they are sure to make it obvious. If confronted, they make a point to mention the things they do, but, almost always, these things should be done regardless. This is mostly because their schedule is the most important and hectic, so it makes sense that they can’t keep up with their own basic upkeep.

There are always excuses for driving like an asshole, using other people’s things, or not doing the things even a downsy seven-year-old can handle easily. They’re ready and willing to list off all the things that make it impossible for them to act otherwise. It never ends up in conversation because it ends up being a game of subject-dodging. Even the Attorney General would have competition. Nothing ever sinks in because it would be too bothersome, so their behavior doesn’t change. And if it does, it’s temporary. They see it as a personal attack and think up reasons why you’re wrong in bringing it up instead of listening. When something specific is brought to their attention they trivialize it or retort irrationally.

Talking with these people is taxing because there is no subject too far off to revert back to them. The value of their input is severely lacking because it doesn’t stray away from their interests or their activities. This is because they only have egomaniacal interests. Because of this, their conversations are shallow and trite. If it’s not about these things they lose interest and start interrupting or creating sub-conversations. They lack the awareness of what’s around them to keep up. These are the people that would pick up their phone mid-evening with a room full of people.

I have to thank my parents for helping me to not be one of them. I take criticism, but see shallow judgment as just that. I know I can be egocentric, but can also catch myself. With their guidance I have—while it may be less than it should be—a level of common sense that is more and more rapidly being bred out of the population. I guess they could still have hated me, but something tells me that was just my perception. Even if that tends to be ninety percent of reality.

public

I imagine that it’s the sound of a phone book being ripped in two, or even a foghorn under water. It’s an incredibly disturbing noise considering the circumstances. It even has a mild echo across the tiled walls. I look forward, trying not to laugh out loud because I get the impression it would only encourage him. I stare at the ineffective locking mechanism of the door. With a small twist it’s meant to hold the stall door shut, but it appears that it will bounce ajar if someone opens the door to the bathroom too quickly. I’ll have to keep tabs on that.

There it is again. The horrifying mental image of someone vomiting out the wrong end flashes across my lids. Again I have to catch myself before I burst into laughter. It wouldn’t even have to be an outright laugh. With only the half inch of hollow steel between us he’d easily hear even a snicker. With a faulty latch I have to be careful. He’s been shifting back and forth and mumbling for quite awhile now.

The rectal vomiting noise brings me out of my faint daydream and the smell returns. When I first sat down I was able to focus on the pages and reading, but the concert going on in the stall beside mine was too much. I had to put the book back in my bag. Now the noxious fumes seem to surround me. Even when I inhale through my mouth I get the faint odor of rotted spinach. The smell brings to mind skunked beer poured on smoldering hair.

I guess I could have thought longer before deciding on the public library to drop one. In retrospect it could have been more peaceful at the Target, or the Convention Center, or really anywhere else. But I had been in a rush after lunch and it was sort of on the way. That and I wanted to get some reading done. Two birds with one stone and the like, you know.

Plunk. That’s ridiculous. Then the sweet, light, rapid thudding of the paper roll de-spooling. It was only a matter of —

“hephewf, that’s what I needed,” in a loud, cracking voice from the stall next to mine. “That was a great shit. Incredible.” This last word comes out slightly muffled by something he’s whipping across his face. He must have over exerted himself.

“On a scale of shits, that’s an eleven.” I wonder what the scale goes up to. I would assume ten, but my impression of him forces me to question if he’d use a standard anything, much less a form of measurement. There are bags piled on the floor, against the wall, in front of him. I can see just the bottoms of what looks like about four backpacks and a couple small piles of clothes.

I’m absolutely at a loss. I’m beyond laughing to the point of utter confusion. At least I’ve apparently adjusted to the stench.

I read somewhere that homeless people—some of them with mental sickness—spend a lot of their time in public libraries on cold days. Maybe he thinks he’s talking to someone, or just appreciative of the congratulations the voices in his head are giving him.

“Eleven out of ten, whew.” Flush. I realize he’s been repeating himself. His bags are off the floor, but one has a strap that drags on the tile as he reaches for the latch. My attention turns to the quarter-inch gap between the wall of the stall and my dismal latch.

The mechanism slides on his door, and as he pulls the door open the strap drags more. He pushes heavily against it as he walks through. One of the bags bumps the side of the frame as he falters through the opening. The bump is enough to jar my door open, but, because my attention was fixed on the latch, I’m ready. In one quick motion I lean forward, push the door quietly shut, and twist the latch into place again.

My lids light up with a sequence where the latch fails and I’m ill-prepared; it swings open only slightly, but enough for Bag Man to see the goofy almost-laughing face I’m wearing, which prompts him to exclaim, “Man, you should’ve seen that. Eleven out of ten!”

As I hear the bathroom door swing shut, I come to the realization that I’ve been in this spot for almost twenty minutes. I’m mildly jealous of Bag Man. He just made his own week and I’m left with the lingering smell of fishy lake water, a slight sense of uneasiness and an urge to laugh harder than I have all week, despite being the only one in the bathroom and how crazy that would seem to someone walking in.

help

I have to admit I’m slightly confused. Or more specifically, completely dumbfounded. I’ve heard about it and I’ve scanned the required reading about it throughout my time in academic situations, but something is lacking. I know the theory behind why it’s there, and I know the general rules as to how it should work.

There are various forms of it being practiced on every corner of the globe. Each is adapted for what’s necessary in each region. Different nations decide what works for them. The theories on how it should work are dramatically different in some cases, but are generally sound until put into practice. Because of this, it shifts and adapts to the social climate as necessary. It goes by many names across the globe, but a government is necessary for social order. Let me relay what I’ve learned so far about it’s workings.

There used to be simple distinctions between the different types of governing bodies. These are being shed in favor of more amorphous entities. Both the soviets and America use the term "president" for their most powerful leader, but they have begun vying for power within their governments to almost the status of kings. Iran, considered evil because of their West-defiant views, has a president too, but he’s a subordinate of the Ayatollah. India is a democracy with a president, but their prime minister has most of the power. I don’t know much about that one though except that "Chad" knows his operating systems inside and out and he has a better American accent than I do.

While the UK, Japan and Canada are considered monarchies, their prime ministers hold positions that are very similar to a president and their royalty is almost symbolic. China is a republic, but it’s been around so long it may just be going through a phase like a woman wearing her hair in a bob to try something different. Africa isn’t a country if you’re looking at a map, but pretty much every foreign government views it as Egypt, South Africa, that place where all the runners are from, and desert. South America probably has a few different types of government too, and I’m sure they’re not even similar, but as far as I can tell they’re either appointed by the US or have just overthrown a government appointed by the US. I guess they don’t like our generosity. Then there’s Australia, but I’m pretty sure they’re just a more boisterously racist form of the US. From what I can tell by watching Fox News, Mexico is an elaborate farm-team system of bus boys and drug runners who insist on taking jobs Americans don’t volunteer for anyway. Even with an election that was probably rigged I still know it’s a republic. And really it’s quite possible our last couple were too.

That’s more the global view. As an American I can’t be too concerned with the activities of other countries because, even though they are the basis for our economy and are outrunning us in almost every pertinent category, they are not the most powerful nation in the world. It would take too much time to learn about other cultures so instead I’ll take a look at mine. We are the richest country in the world, and the third largest population, and we do our part to consume almost a third of the world’s resources. We have two main parties to our government; one that leans toward conservative values and corporate responsibility, and the other that tries for more liberal values and corporate responsibility.

We have four branches of government that rarely use checks and balances among one another. There are many different organizations within each branch, but all four of these seem to work very well together to secure as much financial gain for the wealthy as possible. The cooperation also helps to develop and sustain the isolationist policies that drive our economy so effortlessly down. They mutually create policies that effectively and efficiently keep the poor from any social standing. Before 1942 the country was primarily one of farming or manufacturing and without a collegiate degree someone could realistically own a home fairly quickly. With the demolition of most of Europe and the profits generated from a two-front war, opportunity knocked and business opened the door wide enough to create a phantom middle class, widespread consumer debt, and record profits across the board.

Like the water, there is a cyclical process to government. It used to be that the legislative branch would create laws, the judiciary branch would interpret them, and the executive branch would then enforce the day-to-day implementation of them. The lines were always fuzzy, but one could negate another’s decision. The Supreme Court could choose not to enforce a law or the president could veto one. It was very simple, and meant to keep one branch from becoming dominant. Because of the shift in economic power that the bloodshed caused, the second world war caused a change in how things are done.

The executive branch generates evidence of unjust acts that may or may not be happening or instigates smaller conflicts. They then use vague terminology and ambiguous language to describe their course of action. The legislative branch ignores the implications of the request and passes it quickly without second thoughts, unless it could somehow decrease profit potential for the business branch. This is rare because the highest officials of the executive branch themselves are tightly involved with the business branch. Contracts are given liberally with little concern to cost and in turn the business branch uses the subsequent profits to lobby better monetary compensation for it’s chief officers and stagnant or lowered compensation for lower level employees. These employees are either left to tread water at their current economic level or fall down the social ladder. The lobby also works hard to lower standards health standards, emissions standards, other profit-inhibiting factors. The Supreme Court is appointed by the executive branch to continue deciding social arguments that spark interest and give career politicians easy yes or no answers so they can build a platform for perpetual election.

This lopsided reliance and allowance toward the business branch puts more pressure on them to be more responsible. It’s obvious this is working. While profits are hitting record levels the economy has stalled, which is better than its previous tailspin. Executives are receiving severance packages that rival some GNPs while forty-seven million Americans are without health insurance. The buttsex of the Gays made certain that the list of pertinent issues only recently included the health care system. Even without the people’s attention toward it, the system’s been working well for us so far. Among the top thirty developed nations there are only twenty that have a higher life expectancy. Even with the average premiums for a family of four being above the annual salary of a minimum wage worker, we’re only about fifty trillion in debt due to social programs like Welfare, Medicaid, and Medicare falling apart. And that doesn’t even factor in that, with the minimum wage increase by 2009, the minimum wage worker’s annual income will go up almost twenty-five hundred dollars. That’s almost a thousand dollars over the poverty threshold of 2006.

This greatness comes from being a representative government. Each member of congress only represents 564,000 Americans, so it’s easy enough to relay the will of the people. And because they are the voice of the people, they aren’t affected by the business branch’s attempts to influence them. A member of congress makes about $165,000 annually. A well-connected lobbyist starts at roughly $300,000. And despite the pharmaceutical and health products industry funding one trillion for lobbying, only the most responsible and consumer friendly regulations are put into place. So while the business branch pushes trillions into lobbying efforts, the masses are the largest beneficiaries. American car companies lobby to create ways of keeping foreign auto manufacturers out of the market to increase competition because no one is buying their cars.

The lobby is also helping to push ethanol fuel alternatives that will help curb our thirst for oil by almost two percent. We may have to revert to the level of farming of before the industrial revolution and factor up for the increased population, but it would be nice to slow things down. The corn that will be converted to fuel could feed numerous families for months, but how will they get around? And that’s one of the reasons—even if a very small one—that we’re in Iraq, to establish a presence and show the oil-rich countries how great we are. And, although they already created a successful electric car with a loyal following and battery technology has increased notably, finding renewable alternative resources would be hard and doesn’t show the same profit potential.

Because of the backing of the military industrial complex and pass-the-buck politics, the executive branch easily gave itself more power and entered the country in an unpopular war. Not only do they have the power to deem someone an enemy combatant, which strips them of basic human rights, but they can now declare war and listen in on the private conversations of the citizens. Luckily, this is never done to gain advantage, but rather as a way to deter the ambiguous threat of global terrorism. And even with numbers relating to terrorism, violence, and animosity toward the US exponentially greater than when it began, the war in Iraq successfully liberated its people and sparked a rejuvenating insurgency.

The most efficient part of the whole system is the reliance on so called think tanks. These are places where consultants hired by the business branch spend their days finding strategies and processes that will make the government work better for their clients. Places like the Discovery Institute that brought intelligent design into the mainstream. Or say the Advancement of Sound Science Coalition that started out by casting doubt on the harmful of cigarettes and more recently have been campaigning against the human effect on global warming. With the think tanks’ help the US has led the way in scientific research. In fact when it comes to research in general. Even though as recently as twenty years ago they were tops in the rankings for education they are now only about seventh and ninth for their share of the population with college degrees and high school degrees, respectively. Can’t complain too much when we’re still top ten.

Our military is the strongest in the world. It extends to pretty much every corner of the globe. We have our hands in pretty much everything. We threaten military action and intimidate. But we only intimidate those that can’t retaliate and those that have different belief systems than our own. The military around the globe is filled with volunteers who enlist because they see a quick money opportunity. They are recruited persistently by men barely older than themselves who need to reach monthly quotas. They end up over their heads and surrounded by violence and act out themselves. Their irrational violence and the politics that takes them there kills family members that causes more people to turn to the terrorist ideals. It’s like creating your own job security. If you ignore them having to come back into the same failed heath care system that everyone else is a part of, if not more so, then it’s a pretty amazing deal.

So what I’m confused about is why everyone around the globe seems to have such a distaste for us. Even if we’re increasing our nuclear arsenal we should be able to keep Iran from developing nuclear technology. We may not take the time to learn anything about the cultures we attempt to infiltrate or liberate, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have the population’s best interests at heart. It wouldn’t make any sense for business to work outside the good of the consumers. Why would anyone dislike the best country in the world? We may ignore diplomacy, consume more per capita than anyone else, and reject global issues, but we’re only trying to help make the world run as well as America.

sheeple

Some would consider him a genius. This is a drastically exaggerated descriptor, but it does take a certain level of awareness to do what he’s done. He is labeled as one of the key factors in the republican dominance of this nation’s government that ended only recently. But the way he did it is not unique. It’s not original. It’s not new. In fact, it’s probably been used for millennia. It’s a basis of thought that helped build pyramids, provoke war between tribes, and it’s why governments and Big Business can do the things they do today.

There are likely a number of theories with different names that attempt to describe this idea, but it boils down to this: people, when in bulk, are excessively stupid. One person with independent thought, when grouped with other independent thinkers, and is then given expurgated information, becomes increasingly influenced by popular thought. The phrase “two heads are better than one” may be true, but a couple hundred heads have the equivalent IQ of a middle-school student. The unfortunate facilitator of the viral stupidity is the simple fact that popular thought is easily manipulated.

This may be caused by peoples’ general faith in others’ judgment. And the more other involved, the more true their ideas become. Good ideas spiral into popularity the same way. The first woman to push their swimsuit bottoms up her ass in order to catch more complete sun was likely looked upon as some sort of oddity. But with the help of time and a constant thirst for more carcinogens, the thong was born—and worn.

Bad ideas have the same exponential growth opportunity. The general populous is easily swayed. He knows this. He targets a demographic that he anticipates will hold influence over a larger group. Or he targets boisterous minorities that will catch the attention of substantial numbers of voters. He defines talking points that talk directly to these groups. These groups make up a base. The base holds the credibility that he lacks. With them on his side, his message will sway the masses. And the masses elect and re-elect a president.

The en masse tends to like the things they think everyone else likes. They follow what other people are saying. Fox News is an example of a mouthpiece. This station can say whatever it desires—no matter how bigoted, unpatriotic, or generally skewed—and it is taken with an undeserved sense of credibility. He doesn’t need this credibility because he has learned to use these mouthpieces in order to generate the credibility in others. He’s very skillful.

He’s not creating anything from nothing. Recent examples of small groups thwarting quality public thought can be seen with the tobacco industry of fifty years ago and the oil company today. Big Tobacco created a research organization with the sole intention of disproving, or at least casting doubt on, the science stating their product was killing people. It worked, and their customer base has only grown. Big Oil is doing the same with global warming to curb the trend toward renewable resources. The industry funds studies that cast doubt on our effect on the climate. Even with probably ninety-five percent of scientists—and I think I’m being generous—believing we’re having a disastrous effect on our environment, their efforts have kept the public in the dark until only very recently.

He brought an administration to power that uses the same theories remarkably well. Before they were the dominant force they wanted more transparency in government, and they wanted less restrictions on statements on law, and they fought for the moral high ground as though that ground held the last fertile soil on earth. Then, with the power, they are the most secretive administration since Nixon, they restrict almost every bill and add long-winded signing statements that negate its contents, and are so destitute of morals and filled with corruption that they have essentially lost all credibility, and have less influence with the new legislative branch.

This very small group of people was able, through small channels and loud mouthpieces, to throw our country into an unjust war. The public has been fed giant piles of lies, but keep feeding off them like flies. As long as the right group of people is spewing the falsities, the majority of people will take every word to heart. Unfortunately the ones with the greatest power also have the greatest incentive to keep things as they are and fight any opposing change.

The public even ignores immense hypocrisy until their sphere of influence calls attention to it. Our administration and legislative branch condemn Iran for continued efforts toward a nuclear program while increasing our nuclear technology and stockpiles. They try hard to end abortion because they support the right to life, but send thousands of soldiers to their death in a fabricated war. They repeat a mantra of a link between the wars we’re fighting and the tragedy of 9/11 when no evidence except financial shows that link. And if you factor in the financial connection, the administration is just as strongly to blame as Iraq. They continually leave minimum wage far below the poverty level while raising their wages routinely. The president chants, “support our troops” while extending their tours of duty and increasing the number a soldier must be a part of. He even goes as far as to threaten a veto of the very funds that our troops need because the congress is doing exactly as the Constitution allows and limiting his power.

How can a nation let this pass with little notice? Narcissism fills our social void as we grow farther apart, the media has completely abandoned reporting the news in favor of impotent gossip, and even with a wealth of knowledge at our fingers through the interweb, people still base their opinions on those of others. Thankfully the public thought has begun to change and some hypocrisy is being exposed—along with a few illegalities. The tide is in favor of smarter legislation and proactive in changing the world’s view of us, but it may be too late. He did his part, and even if he loses the influence he has gained, there will be another he to take his place because the populous will always be ripe and ready to be taken advantage of. They’re just too dumb to know any better.

second

First is young. She appears to be just below the age of drink. She has light brown hair just past her shoulders up in a mussed tie. It’s rough and exposes bits of tan scalp. She’s too tan and wears a beige tank with thick straps over a white t-shirt and jeans. She’s on her cell, an average flip that probably has a camera and multimedia features. She speaks loudly so her words ring of false import. The conversation is light and uninteresting. She carries with her a small luggage bag with handle and wheels and a large pocketed purse. She walks up and stops too close with the confidence of one who takes attention for granted. Her voice is abrasive and rings through my obtuse headphones. I hear slices of dull conversation between bursts of Bloc Party. She walks just behind me toward the doors when the train pulls up.

Second is already on the train as I step over the yellow line and she’s slightly older. She’s probably more my age. Her brown hair darker and short, barely to her shoulders, but held back with clips from her face. Over her pink-purple shirt is a gray zip-up sweatshirt that comes down just below the belt holding up here denim. She’s also on the phone, but quiet and unassuming. She stands to my left at the doors, leaning against the plexi-glass. She has a small backpack over one shoulder and a new-model Pod in her left hand. As she finishes the conversation she replaces the buds and shifts slightly to her right while passing the phone to her Pod hand. Her phone is new; an all-in-one model.

First’s conversation starts to pick up momentum. Something on the other end is “traumatic” and she relays much of her day’s events. I barely listen and turn up the music slightly. She appears to have just under fifteen pounds of excess flesh, but with the thick upper-arms it appears she tries to keep up with exercise. She probably runs at least twice a week. She looks around but never out the window. She looks people up and down, facing toward the back of the train. She stares too long, sure of herself. She reaches her right hand in and pulls her cell up to the edge of the purse to check for a message. She has a Julia Stiles look. Not that she looks anything like Julia, but she has the same dead eyes.

Second is by her lonesome. She has an unfortunate body type. It looked as though she had a thin inner-tube under her sweatshirt. She was squatty and probably almost fifty pounds heavier than her stature. She looked down almost the entire time and even moved slightly closer to the door and faced out the windows. She didn’t look around and tried her hardest to have a little impact on the ones around her as possible. It was almost as though she flattened into the hard plastic divider.

First has had everything handed to her. Guys let her pass in a busy Target isle. Her friends tell her she’s attractive, that she can get anyone. Her parents feed into her ego by letting things pass and giving her things she may not ever need. She’s in college because her friends went. She can handle herself around a book, but has trouble keeping up with conversation above a People level. She gives sympathy on the phone when she’s supposed to. She can make people think she cares. She attaches herself with any guy that will show her the attention she desperately craves. She spends frivolously because there has always been money. She sees the brighter side because there’s been no other way.

Second has had to fend for herself. She spends most of her money on the newest gadgets to impress because her looks don’t. She was ridiculed or, even worse, ignored. She spent more time around the house or with friends of similar social stature. She’s seen people around her turn to drugs and alcohol not just for a good time, but for a crutch. She reads and keeps up with the typical gossip, but tends to talk about more pressing issues. She has friends that she genuinely cares for and the relationship is mutual. Any attention is good attention, but she’s used to not having it. She’s more realistic because she has seen both sides of coin.

Who do you mildly pity? Who do you sympathize with?

First will sustain hollow relationships for most of her adult life. Her husband will feel no real connection beyond appearance and because of this, and other pressures she places on herself, she will never feel comfortable in her own skin. Her friends will have little to no attachment and thus will never have any help to offer if it’s ever really in need. She will have a social circle of other like-minded people who will raise their children in the same fashion, if at all. She will never fill a void that she doesn’t even know is there. She’ll will take things for granted that most could go through their entire life without.

Second will find a man who loves her for who she is because he has no choice. He won’t be an Abercrombie model, but he’ll be genuine and smart. Their children will have a level of common sense that First’s will never reach. They may not be as successful, but they will likely be happy for at least part of their lives. She will be surrounded by friends that will not only help her through rough times, but probably enhance her life in some way. She will be genuinely happy because she’s seen what could happen and somehow avoided it. She wasn’t encumbered by the typical social pressures because she was shunned so often. Because of this she will appreciate it.

These are fictional characters because everyone knows First will be superficially happy and Second will crave the ease at which First goes about her life. I may not ever have sex with Second, but she will be a hell of a lot more interesting than First, and for that I’d at least get something out of her being around.

aged

He’s about a block ahead of me. I’m gaining on him steadily. He walks with an exaggerated limp on his left. The foot there angles sharply and points more at his ten o clock than his intended direction. The knee looks unstable; it shakes slightly with each step. As far as I can tell he makes the walk daily. His pace is such that I come up on him quickly as he pauses to look off to his right. The movements are arduous and, from the outside, appear painful and uncertain.

While his age is ambiguous he has been involved in, or at least seen, more than I likely ever will. He’s seen gruesome images; either in a paper, on television, or intimately of war and other horrendous acts. He was alive during four major United States conflicts. He could have been to the countries and in the battles that I’ve only seen described on the History Channel. His closest friends may have died overseas or in his arms. He may have numerous siblings lost to disease or other untimely deaths. His wife may have recently passed. I have only seen two wars on television; both appeared as video game demos, with no connection to reality. The only deaths close to me have been a girl in high school I crushed on, but rarely talked to, and a grandfather who I hardly ever spoke with.

He has been married, or was married, for likely twice my lifetime. They have gone through blessed times and cursed times. They probably raised at least a small family. His wife probably stayed home out of expectation. There was social pressure for her not to have a job. They have grandchildren that are probably my age. My mother chose to relinquish her career in favor of raising my siblings and I. We may have ended up with more money if she had remained an accountant, but I’ll never know. I’ve never asked her how she feels about that choice. My longest relationship was fourteen months.

The Depression was probably real for him. He either remembers it in detail or was a part of the relief just after. He has a real sense of money and was likely unfazed by the eighties. He saw socialist programs try to bring about change and saw the Big Business backlash to them. He’s had to deal with exponential inflation. Whatever money he had stashed for retirement is probably much less than he needs. I’m from a suburb and, while my parents are probably somewhere in mid-middle class terms, I haven’t had much for want. I also don’t have the same attitudes toward currency as some of my peers, so that may help. I’ve never gone without food or had to sacrifice in order to pay for a months worth. I rarely had hand-me-downs. I’ve seen pictures of the bread lines in books.

I could probably ask him a hundred questions about where he’s from, what he’s done, what he’s seen, who he’s met, how he feels, and what he thinks. And even those would only reveal a fraction of the scope of his life. Our perspectives could be dichotomous or almost identical with the only difference being genuine experience. He turns and flashes a quick smile with a spark of kindness in his eyes. Hi, he says.

“Morning,” is the only response I can muster, but the smile that comes with it is sincere. I resume walking ahead at my faster, and steadier, pace.

tribal

It started with the mammoth. An animal of immense size that needed teamwork to be brought down. The teams would leave for hours or days at a time to bring back sustenance. The best hunters came home to the most prized of wives. These hunters traveled together and talked amongst themselves to find new and better ways to kill great beasts. They were powerful within the tribe and respected. Their children played together and inherited the power their parents had.

Then came the crops. The ability to grow large amounts of food was paramount and the best farmers were able to provide for the most prized of wives. They talked between themselves and taught each other the smartest ways to work the land. New and better ways of raising crops were developed. They were powerful and respected among the community.

The value of land caused a need for growth that created rivalries and competition between neighboring communities. Fights broke out for more land and, by proxy, more power. Wars were fought and the best warriors gained control of the best lands. These warriors talked between themselves and learned new and smarter ways to disable an enemy to more quickly control more lands. The warriors were powerful and respected and won the affection of the most prized of wives.

Warriors became kings and controlled not only portions of land, but the people residing in them. There was constant haggling between kings for more lands and juxtaposition of power. They talked with each other about how to best control their subjects and increase their influence. Their children interacted with one another. They inherited the influence of their parents. They married the most prized of wives from families of similar standing in other countries. They were sometimes respected but always powerful.

The people revolted and started electing their own officials. These officials and representatives worked together to give themselves more and more clout. They found ways to earn money on the side and simultaneously increase their wages at rates much higher than the typical citizen they represented. They formed partnerships with their counterparts in business. They were able to wed the most prized of wives from other influential families. Their children existed in the same circles. They were respected and powerful.

Corporations grow on the exploitation of their workers. They merge and split, are created and destroyed, according to profit margins. When the governments needle them with moral changes they work with those governments to decide together on profitable solutions. The CEOs are compensated very well monetarily. They discuss among themselves and with those of similar status in these governments to find the best ways to make themselves the most money. They determine ways to keep money from the government that in turn finds ways to give them more. They use their power and influence to generate more power and influence. They buy the best cars, best houses, best wives and their children go to the same schools and workplaces.

Since the day a sparsely clothed tribesman brought back a gigantic piece of mammoth not much has changed. Except maybe the respect.

interweb

The interweb is my playground. I have multiple accounts. They serve little to no purpose. I’m exposed to more media and advertising in a typical day than my father was before he was my age. I get headaches.

In regards to email, I currently have three accounts with Google, one with Hotmail, and one with Yahoo. I have one for both Creatis and Meet Minneapolis. I have one through school. I used to have another Hotmail account and another Google account. I used to have one from the Daily.

I have two AIM names, two MSN names, two accounts with Google chat, and if I were to reinstall Yahoo messenger I’d have a name there. I used to have four other AIM names that I used somewhat regularly and another MSN name. I’ve had a cell phone since I was sixteen.

I have an account with Facebook and one with Myspace. I keep somewhat regular with four blogs and have a fifth I’ve neglected. I have a Flickr account and a Picasa account. I have a couple spreadsheets on Google.

Without omitting the overlapping profiles, names and numbers, I have: a hundred cell numbers, a hundred-thirty spacebook friends, a hundred email addresses, and two hundred “buddies”. I can count the number of people I consistently contact via cell or other interweb connection on less than my fingers. If you add the people I contact more than once a month it jumps to toes.

I watch television constantly and have roughly seventy channels to choose from. It’s on almost the entire time from my arrival home to when I cash out. I put mental effort into seeing four shows in the course of a week: CSI, South Park, Daily Show/Colbert Report, and recently, House.

The headaches flare quickly, like a vice between my eyes being tightened. They’ve been known to last a few days at a time. I get headaches from lack of sleep and can’t sleep because of headaches. Their frequency has slowly increased since freshman year of high school. I created my first email and AIM accounts that same year.

freeway

Their internal monologues are almost loud enough to hear. There’s an entire queue of them. "Where did this asshole learn to drive?;" "Why the hell is that dick in this lane?;" "Get the fuck out of my way, douchebag!"

I sit behind the wheel and feel their rage like a warm blanket. I drive through it as I would a tuft of their cigarette smoke. My mood shifts to irate before I can adjust. I’m on the ass of the car immediately in front of me. I know he has nowhere to go. I know he’s just doing the same to the bumper immediately in front of him. I can’t help myself.

I start picturing the asshole in the first position of this single-file line of anger. I picture him or her oblivious to the frustration caused in their car’s wake. He or she is calmly adjusting the temperature. He or she is shifting slightly in the seat to a more comfortable position. He or she is tuning the dial slowly to find some road-friendly talk radio.

I picture a poisoned-tipped dart rocketing into his or her jugular. I visualize the pull of the wheel, the shift of weight, the tipping of the axles, the car upending as it enters the ditch. I see the muffler, then the mangled trunk, then the muffler again as the car flips twice and lands shakily on the driver’s side.

I imagine the lane clearing; everyone’s face brightens, I go on my way unobstructed. Then I look to my right and see a red sedan making the move to try and cut two or three cars ahead in our rage-line. I don’t know him, I’ve never met him, and I will never meet him. He’s an asshole. I turn my anger to the car in front of me for not reacting fast enough to deter his advancement.

I remember you’re supposed to follow the car ahead of you by three seconds. I’m curious. I count in my head, wha—. Oh well, good enough.

We eventually pass the offending car. Going the speed limit as posted should have jail time associated with it. The lead car directs focus away from the Elton John on his stereo enough to merge back to the right lane. The second car steps the right peddle to the floor. The rest of the line follows.

They work their way into the right lane immediately ahead of the car they were just following. I ride the bumper of the car in front of me until he mercifully pulls to the right. Then I’m free of their madness. I realize I’m going fifteen over the posted limit. Fuck it. I’m not risking ending up back in that group.

I turn the stereo up two notches, shift back in my seat, and the tension dissipates from me like sweating on a hot day. I look ahead and see a line of dozen cars in the left slowly inching past a Buick in the right.

cats

Her hand grasped lightly at the ceiling. Or more specifically, the grid of light boards that made up the suspended ceiling. The grid concealed a network of cables, pipes and other utility devices, but whether the slivers could support weight was in question. Especially unstable, intoxicated mass set in motion by gyrating hips. Her mouth was agape and the uncertainty was evident across her brow. But as her second foot arrived sturdy on the table the sober-like expression faded in favor of the previous expression of dim-witted happiness.

The room had a light drunk odor. A crude mixture of cigarette, cologne, perfume, and sweat. It was crowded. It was small. I was within twenty feet of the door and I was half to the back wall. There were no vacant seats and the remaining drinkers were vying for real estate to stand.

While the amount of time that passed is lost in drink, it wasn't much later when she walked past, and i got a closer look. About as tall as I, she was sporting a black top with jeans. Because of the meandering path to the bar, there's no way to tell if she would be walking straight if able. My instincts say no.

Her hair is dark and pulled back. As she waits for a friend to buy her some more fuel for her neuron-killing spree, she begins to converse with a fellow patron. He's a bit taller than she, but nowhere near as influenced. The conversation directly surrounding me and the tunes in the background provide too much aural distraction to hear what's being said. Drink-buying friend turns slightly with money in her right hand and speaks—quite loudly because I can hear her—of Dark-hair being married in the immediate future. Patron gives a half-hearted laugh in apparent embarrassment of what sparked the mention of the hitching.

The Cheese. I'm suddenly curious. Black briefs with white seams over jeans is an odd statement. But a phrase as peculiar as "The Cheese" emblazoned on the back brings more unfortunate attention. Friend and Dark-hair move closer to the open floor where groups are dancing. Another patron leans and says something inaudible. In response she turns quickly and thrust her pelvis forward. From appearances the move was a bit more sudden than she intended, but reveals the "I [heart graphic]" at the front of her briefs. I [heart] the cheese. Stunning.

Where is the groom to be? Is this an isolated incident or will he be plagued by girls' night outs for the duration of wedded bliss? Is he just as inebriated and flirtatious? Is she trying desperately to fulfill her desire to experience other things? Have they been together for years of mutual convenience? Is it a marriage brought about by social pressures? Is the stress relief of finally securing a position as housewife what drives her thirst? Or is it the mild depression brought about by the same realization?

But really the most pressing issue is a much simpler one; who will be assigned the duty of holding that dark hair back as her night comes back one wretch at a time?