A couple weeks ago Mackenzie was back from California where she spends most of her weekends for some reason, and I was sitting by her in church and she was wearing a funky skirt with two rings of pom-poms around it. The top leftmost pom-pom, closest to me, was badly disfigured by (I assume) all the people who had played with it. I tried to manipulate it back into its proper shape, touching only the pom-pom and that's all, but she huffed, loudly enough for the strangers in front of us to turn around, "Could you maybe not touch my skirt?"
"I was just trying to fix the pom-pom..." I said. The strangers turned back around, their interest already dissipated. "It's not fixable," she said. And then she gave me a quizzical look. "Are you afraid of me?" "Kind of," I said. "Sometimes I think maybe," she said, "but then I think no, he couldn't be..." I mumbled something. Probably "sorry". I don't remember. "Can you understand," she continued, "how it might be kind of awkward to talk to someone who's afraid of you?" "Yeah," I said. (Of course, the context would be completely different. As Margaret Atwood is often paraphrased, "Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them." And Mackenzie, an ardent feminist, must be acutely aware of this.) "What if you were afraid of them and they were afraid of you?" she went on. "Would that be easier, or would that make it worse?" "I don't know, I guess it would depend... When I talk to awkward people, it's just twice as awkward." "I sat by someone in Relief Society that you should talk to." "How do you know she would be scared of me?" "I can just tell. Let's see... that's her, in the blue dress. You don't need to like date her or anything, but I just think it would be good for you to talk to her." "Okay... "Go up to her and say, 'I like your dress.' And if she doesn't respond much to that, say something like 'Did you make it yourself?' And if she doesn't respond much to that, you're off the hook." "Okay." Alas, she slipped away before we could say anything to her. "I don't see her anywhere," Mackenzie said as she scanned the crowd. I did, but I opted not to mention it. Later that day, at ward prayer, I said, "Do you want to know why I'm scared of you?" "Because I'm a girl?" Mackenzie guessed without missing a beat. "No," I said. "I mean, yes, that's part of it, but not the primary part." "It's so strange that you're scared of girls but you feel more comfortable hanging out with them than guys," she said. "Normally, by this point, having known you for so long, I would be relaxed with you, like with Debbie -" "You aren't scared of Debbie?" "No. Did I seem like it?" "Yeah." "When was that? Was it like at the beginning of last summer, before we hung out all the time, or?" "I don't remember, it's been so long since we were all in one spot." "Well, anyway, the main reason I'm scared of you is that I feel like I always have to walk on eggshells to -" "Oh, yeah," she said, waving me to not continue, "you told me about that." "And then, yes, the other reasons are that you're a girl, that you're pretty, that you're - never mind." "What?" "Never mind." "No, what?" "I just was going to say that you're 'powerful' and stuff, for lack of a better word, but then you would think it was sexist of me to be intimidated by -" "No, it's only sexist if you - never mind." "What?" "Nothing." "How come you get to change your mind and not say things, but I have to say them anyway?" Mackenzie smiled. "Because I have the power in this relationship." ("Relationship" in the generic sense, obviously.) "And if I tried to seize more power, and be assertive and stuff, would you push back?" "Of course," she said. "That's how relationships work. They're a power struggle until someone comes out on top." Lesson learned. In the car afterward, Mackenzie asked, "Would it be all right if I criticized you?" "You do that all the time," I said. "No, it's more of just that we disagree," she said. (I feel like we actually agree 95% of the time, but she fixates on the other 5% instead and badgers me about it, and then as a result sometimes I play stupid and pretend to disagree just to mess with her.) "I mean, are you one of those people who would rather be told you have spinach in your teeth, or just find out on your own later?" "I believe it's important to know the truth," I said, "even if it sucks beyond belief. If you break me into a thousand pieces, I will rebuild myself into a better me." (Not really. Broken things don't rebuild themselves.) She laughed nervously. And we went on like that until in a very roundabout way she managed to convey what she had in mind. But that's none of your business.
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Mike Rees, aka the coolest guy in Utah according to me, sometimes throws parties in his backyard less than a block from my house and just makes it a public Facebook event so anyone who feels like it can show up. And he had one last week, which I figured I'd show up to just a few minutes late after I got off work at eight, so I came to work wearing my fancy tie-dyed dress shirt and with one thing each of lemonade, strawberry lemonade, raspberry lemonade, and limeade to keep in the fridge and then take with me. But Jaycee, who usually gives me a ride home on Fridays, wasn't there, so I had to jog the seven blocks or so to the bus stop with those lemonades in double-layered grocery bags digging into my arms. After I made it I was very pleased that I had been able to do this hard thing that I never want to do again. And then I wasn't able to get to the party until eight thirty-fiveish when I ran into several friendly neighbor girls going too and it was just about to start the beginning stages of getting underway, so that worked out nicely. I collapsed on one of the couches and rested instead of talking to people I didn't know, so that worked out nicely too. I lounged on the couch for most of the evening except when I got up to get food and drink. I had mostly filled up on hot dogs already when they started grilling hamburgers that were even better. I had one. That was really good, I thought. I want another one. But I also don't want to move, so I have a bit of a dilemma here. Ah, first-world problems. I did muster up the stamina for two more. At one point I used their bathroom and took the liberty of weighing myself and discovered that I've gained seventeen pounds since the last time I weighed myself, which I think was in 2013. On Sunday I ran into one of the high councilor guys who used to be Debbie's bishop. I first met him when she was giving me a ride home and brought me with her on a detour to his house for hot chocolate along with several other members of her ward. So he introduced himself and welcomed me into his home and it was kind of awkward because I'm awkward and he was too so there was a lot of silences and smiling and nodding. He has said on more than one occasion, "I used to be so shy I wouldn't talk to myself." But he's a stellar guy and has done quite well for himself now so that gives me some hope. I watched General Conference in his home last year and frequently see him around church doing his high council stuff and he always talks to me if he sees me. Last Sunday, after the usual checking up on my job and life he asked, "Do you have a place to eat today?" And I tried to remember if there was some kind of holiday going on, but Memorial Day was over and there wasn't anything else, was there? But he was just inviting me over out of friendliness, I guess. One of their teenage daughters answered the door when I showed up, and I didn't recognize her because I have dementia with names and faces and she was holding a baby, so I hesitated as to whether this was the correct address, but it was and she let me in. I sat down in the living room where a toddler was watching "Sofia the First". I've seen a few Sofia the First books at work, so it was nice to finally get some clue what it actually is. The toddler started talking to me profusely and pointed out the different colors on the screen and on the little egg lip balm things she was holding. I wondered where she and the baby had come from. I didn't remember them and in any case, the heads of this household seemed just a bit chronologically advanced to have children so young. But that mystery was solved when their oldest daughter whom I'd never met came in the room and claimed them as her own. From now on I shall refer to the parties involved as Host, Hostess, Daughter 1, Daughter 2, Daughter 3, Granddaughter 1, and Granddaughter 2. I sat at the head of the table between Daughter 2 and Daughter 3. I feel that I sort of gypped my hosts by not saying much the entire time, but I don't usually have much to say. Granddaughter 1 kept talking and engaged me in conversation the most, followed by Daughter 1 and Hostess. At one point the latter asked seemingly out of nowhere, "Are both your parents still living?" I thought she was going to end that sentence with "in New York?" or "in Indiana?" but she just ended it with a question mark. I said yes. She followed up, "Are they still married to each other?" I said yes, wondering where this was going. She said, "You just have to ask these days because you can't assume anything." When I mentioned not being in school, Daughter 2 asked, "Do you have a job?" That was one of the few things she said to me. More notably, thrice she belched very deeply and loudly, keeping her mouth closed so that she sounded like a sando aqua monster and showing no concern about it afterward. After lunch was over and I went into the backyard she did it again with her mouth open, and now I couldn't any longer resist commenting, "You're very impressive!" Finally she seemed a little sheepish as she mumbled back, "Thank you. Sorry." Really, I'm not like a huge belching fan but anything done that well deserves recognition. I was also impressed, though I shouldn't have been, when Host and Hostess related the story (while she was sitting right there) of her leaving Relief Society early to take their van and go joyriding, and they thought it had been stolen and then they thought she had been kidnapped. I shouldn't admire that kind of irresponsible and reckless behavior, but I do. As far as I know my sisters have never done anything cool like that. It came out at one point that Daughter 3 is a writer, so we talked about that for a couple minutes. She said she posted a book she wrote on some website and it had been read 20,000+ times. She said someone else once posted a Twilight fan-fiction there and it was so popular that she changed the names and published it and became a millionaire. Now this story sounded kind of familiar and I couldn't imagine it happening twice, so I inquired, with some hesitation as to whether it was even okay to speak these words at the dinner table, "Was that, ah, Fifty Shades of Grey?" Yes, it was. "Which you will not be reading," Hostess interjected. Good parenting. You know, I've seen a few passages from that book and they looked like they were written by a third-grader, albeit a strangely perverted one. Few things better illustrate H. L. Mencken's observation that "No one ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public." And that's my backup plan if all else fails. Kids Say the Darndest ThingsI tried to remember Granddaughter 1's lines that I found particularly amusing, though she was so totes adorbs that almost anything she said could provoke a smile. Can someone say the prayer that's me? I just burped, but I said 'scuse me, so you still love me, right? Sometimes I be a good girl, and sometimes my people mess me up. Already blaming society for her misbehavior. I'm so proud. There used to be two dogs, but now there's only one dog because the other dog died. Guess what? Sometimes dogs die. At this point her mom said, "I kind of just want to all be quiet and see what she says to you." After Granddaughter 2 loudly soiled herself You did it! When she wanted to go out and play on the tire swing I want someone besides you to push me. While Host and I were pushing her in circles on the tire swing "I can't see you guys anymore. I can only see your colors. And your eyes. And your faces. And your hands. And your feet." "Sometimes, every day, I do whatever I do." When the tire swing hit me as it was spinning A: Hahaha! I got you! Me: You stinker. A: I only stink when I need to poop. Me: Does that happen a lot? A: It helps a lot. When I got home, the neighbor's similarly aged daughter was out playing in the weird alleyway that divides our house in half, and I smiled and waved like usual, and then I went inside and a moment later there was a tapping on my door so faint that I wasn't sure at first if I'd heard anything. But it came again, so I opened it and she was there and she said hi. So then her mom was all "Is she knocking on your door? I'm so sorry" and I was all "It's no problem" and really it wasn't because I wish my grown-up friends were that friendly. I actually really love children when they aren't being insufferable brats. EMF - ChildrenThe opening track of the album "Schubert Dip" whence also came the much more famous "Unbelievable". I may like this one a bit more. I'm not sure. USU graduation last year came on the heels of the first week at my terrible call center job, so now that this milestone has come around again with unreal speed I can look back and feel very good about how far I've come even though I haven't come very far. The weather has been cloudy today, keeping the heat down to a reasonable level, with just a bit of rain for a while that didn't disrupt the proceedings. Debbie has her Master of Social Work now and I'm very proud of all the hard work she put into it while still prioritizing and making time for people. Fortunately she's sticking around Logan and I pray we'll get to hang out all summer like we did all last summer. I wanted to write all about how great she is and what an incalculably profound influence she's had on my life and the kind of person I want to become, but that was a daunting task far beyond my skills so I gave up before I started. Many of the coworkers I have grown to know and love are, alas, going home for the summer. The conclusion I've drawn from this is don't care about people because then they'll always hurt you somehow even if they don't try. I'm kidding, but not really. Now it is very difficult to find an unbiased source, and I'm not a doctor or anything, but as far as I can tell, Trumpcare is little more than Obamacare with a couple of the bad parts and all of the good parts removed. In any case, it's a testament to the Republican Party's pettiness and hypocrisy. They are not proponents of limited government - just limited Democrat government. And they don't give a crap about the gullible voters who for seven years have supported them and counted on them to get government out of healthcare. In fairness, they are trying to restore much of the insurance companies' unfettered freedom to screw their customers whenever they get a chance, so there's that. Corruption in government = bad; corruption in corporations = fine. Oh, but I'm not shedding any tears over their attempt to defund Planned Parenthood, even thought this could potentially force women to go to any of the thousands of other women's health centers that are available in the US. So there's that. In last week's post I quoted Bill Nye as saying that "Many, many, many, many more hundreds of eggs are fertilized than become humans", and this wasn't the main point so I just tacked it on to the end with little context. The context, in case you were wondering and/or objecting, was that many fertilized eggs never implant and continue to develop, and for political or arbitrary reasons he and some other people don't consider them part of the human species despite being fully comprised of human DNA. He made this argument in an effort to persuade pro-lifers that they're hypocritical and wrong. In contrast, as I made sure to point out, this time around I made no effort to persuade anyone of anything as far as abortion is concerned. In asserting that these fertilized eggs are human, I was not saying they can think or feel or are entitled to the full rights and protections of a grown adult, and I don't think they are, but I was rejecting Nye's political and moral assertions based on a scientific facade. (Also, someone pointed out that different cultures have had varying ideas on when life begins, but there's a scientific definition of that and they're not entitled to their own facts.) We are all well aware of the ongoing violence in Syria, largely because of the refugee crisis and the tens of thousands of men, women and children who remain in dire need of whatever help we can offer them. You've probably heard a lot less about the ongoing violence in Central African Republic and South Sudan. The battles and atrocities in these two nations are unrelated to each other, but they're both awful and tragic and the biggest crises going on in Africa right now. Every once in a while I Google these nations in the hope of some happy news, but despite occasional positive developments there just is no end in sight. So that's what I'm fasting and praying for this weekend and I just felt like bringing it up since they don't get nearly as much attention as Syria. Palette-Swap Ninja - Princess Leia's Stolen Death Star PlansSo, this is one of the most creative and interesting things ever - the entire "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" album parodied as the story of "A New Hope" with great faithfulness to the original instrumentation, lyrics, and cadence. I am thoroughly impressed and don't understand why it doesn't have ten million views already. Resolutions and PoliticsNew Year's resolutions would make more sense if we did them on our birthdays, would they not? Because that's when the real "new years" of our lives begin. Of course, feeling a need to wait until the beginning of a year to make changes in one's life is completely irrational, but I get it, I'm a human too and my mind isn't ruled by rationality either. I've never deliberately set out to make New Year's resolutions but this time around the hype has gotten to me and I've become more resolute about one that I started pondering some time ago. I want to become like Debbie, the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met. Ultimately I should aspire to be like Jesus, but this is a more manageable-sized interim goal and a major step in that direction. I'd like to think that I have a good heart and I just want to be kind and loving to everyone, but sometimes my contempt for much of humanity gets in the way. Debbie has an advantage over me in that she loves all of God's children and I don't. There are a great number of people that I wish would do the world a favor by holding their breath for about ten minutes. Looking down on them makes me feel better about myself, so it's hard to give up. I've therefore started somewhere easier by developing an unconditional love for my co-workers who, with very rare teensy little exceptions, give me no reasons to dislike them. One lady was rude to me when I got paired up with her and she was also rude to me when I was consciously nice to her, but now she just stares blankly at me, so I see that I've already had a positive impact on her life. Debbie has another advantage over me in that she's female, so she can be as nice as she wants without the opposite sex labeling her as a "nice girl" as a thinly veiled code for "unattractive and uninteresting person who is obviously just being nice because she wants us to like her". Since I'm not female I feel a constant nagging pressure in my mind to hold back and not be too nice. I'm striving to ignore it and let the chips fall where they may. I asked myself just the other day, "What would Debbie do if she were here?" And then I said back to myself, "You make it sound like she's dead." And then I replied to myself, "She may as well be." Long story. And it's a pure coincidence that this is happening near the beginning of the year, but I've decided to resign my Republican Party affiliation. Let me be clear: I have felt for years that the Republican Party was more or less equally corrupt and responsible for everything that's wrong with this country as the Democrat one, and never considered myself a Republican. However, Utah's stupid law required me to join one of those two parties in order to vote in the primaries, and since I leaned more conservative I chose that one. It did me no good because, thanks to the absurdly undemocratic way that the primaries work, their 2012 nominee was already chosen by the time Utah got a turn to weigh in. Granted, it would have chosen him anyway. This time around Utah had more of a say in it, but since the Republican Party chose a man as abhorrent as Drumpf and forfeited every ounce of its moral high ground, I no longer want anything to do with it. Utah has already been growing less Republican without a corresponding increase in Democrats. That trend makes me very happy and I plan on contributing to it. Most Utah Mormon Republicans think they're Republicans because that party's platforms are more in harmony with the gospel, but the truth is that most Utah Mormon Republicans are Republicans because, after decades of resisting the Republican Party's attempts to crush the LDS Church for practicing polygamy, their Mormon ancestors became Republicans so that the Republican U.S. government would let Utah become a state. It worked. Now, thanks to confirmation bias, many descendants of long lines of Utah Mormon Republicans perceive their party as being more in harmony with the gospel and find it baffling that any Mormon could be a Democrat. President Uchtdorf denounced this kind of thinking a couple of General Conferences ago and the people who needed to hear that the most are of course the ones who decided it didn't apply to them. Also, is the MoTab performing at Drumpf's inauguration still causing a stir all over the place, or just here in Utah? I'm pretty dang tired of hearing about it. Star WarsI imagine most people who want to see "Rogue One" have seen it by now, but if not, it shouldn't be too much of a spoiler to mention that Grand Moff Tarkin is in it as a CG character. Or, to be precise, as an actor with a similar build and voice to the late Peter Cushing, digitally altered to look like the late Peter Cushing. The result looks quite fake, but this kind of a stunt would have been unthinkable a few years ago and will probably be perfected a few years from now. Exciting stuff. Some people think it's unethical to recreate a dead person like that. I don't, but then I couldn't care less if someone urinates on my corpse and feeds it to wolves after I die, so maybe I'm not the best person to ask. According to the New York Times, ILM's chief creative officer John Knoll has dismissed the notion that this will open the door to a lot more dead-person-resurrecting: “I don’t imagine that happening,” Mr. Knoll said. “This was done for very solid and defendable story reasons. This is a character that is very important to telling this kind of story.” He added: “It is extremely labor-intensive and expensive to do. I don’t imagine anybody engaging in this kind of thing in a casual manner.” If “Star Wars” films are still made in 50 or 100 years, Mr. Knoll said audiences would probably not see likenesses of Mark Hamill or Harrison Ford playing Luke Skywalker or Han Solo. Erm... you realize that in 50 or 100 years, a seven-year-old will be able to do that with her phone, right? And Disney will keep making Star Wars movies until they start to suck so bad that no one will pay to watch them anymore. I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, this is a whole galaxy with a multi-thousand-year history we're dealing with here, offering infinite story possibilities without retreading the same ground over and over. On the other hand, I feel like the "light side vs. dark side with lightsabers and space battles" concept will nonetheless start to get pretty stale after a while. But in a worst-case scenario, no matter how redundant or terrible future movies may become, they won't negate or detract from existence of the good ones. I've seen/heard at least a couple people mentioning that there are now eight Star Wars movies. This is incorrect. As much as some may wish it to be otherwise, there are at least twelve and possibly as many as eighteen Star Wars movies, depending on the strictness of your criteria. The four indisputible pre-Rogue-One non-main-saga movies are: The Star Wars Holiday Special (1978) - I can see why people want to forget this one. Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure (1984) - I can see why people want to forget this one, though it's much better than "The Star Wars Holiday Special". Ewoks: The Battle for Endor (1985) - I can see why people want to forget this one, though it's much better than "Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure". The Clone Wars (2008) - I can see why people want to forget this one. In addition, some episodes of the 1985 animated "Droids" series, the 1985-86 animated "Ewoks" series, and the 2003-5 animated "Clone Wars" series (not to be confused with the more recent CG animated "Clone Wars" series) were edited together into movie-ish formats for DVD release, adding six more to the total if you choose to include them. Of all these things, however, only "The Clone Wars" movie had a theatrical release and is still considered canon since Disney took over. But even if you only count that one and pretend none of the others exist, there are nine total, not eight. I'm not even embarrassed about knowing this stuff. Shout-out to a good friend who has been very supportive of this blog and also has one of his own. In his latest post he writes about the women in his life (kinda). You should go read it. Gigi D'Agostino - La Danza del SoleI'm just sharing this remix of "Bla Bla Bla" because I've been listening to it lately and I like it. I have nothing profound to say about it. I have no idea what he's saying.
First of all, as I announced two weeks ago, yesterday was legendary actor Kirk Douglas' 100th (one hundredth) birthday. I'm so very happy for him even though I myself have no desire to live that long. Some highlights: he's lonely because his Hollywood friends are dead (I can relate), he's not worried about death (I can relate), he writes more nowadays since a stroke left him unable to communicate verbally as well as he used to (I can relate), and he kind of just wants to relax and be left alone until he does more interviews when he turns 200 (I can relate).
Of far less significance, a couple days earlier marked the one year anniversary of the last time I asked a girl out. After I realized that I hadn't done it for several months, I decided to see if I could make it a whole year, and now I've accomplished my goal and I know I can do anything I set my mind to. I almost slipped up a couple months ago when I fell head over heels for a coworker, but she saved me by strategically mentioning her boyfriend. Over the summer, when I was hanging out with Debbie at least thrice a week, we did a bunch of things that would have been dates if I hadn't already agreed that they weren't. Lots of people thought we were dating and I made no attempt to correct their misconception. I realize now that was very selfish of me. But dang, it was a great summer.
So much drama gone. So much stress gone. So much money no longer gone. And every time I asked a girl out, I felt like I was following someone else's script and not doing a particularly good job of it, reading lines that someone else wrote without my input or consent, but that I was expected to follow just because I was born. This last time was for the Latter-day Voices Christmas concert, which happened again last night and will happen again tonight. Since Emily is now on a mission and unlikely to ever read this, I can finally all of the juicy details, except that there really aren't any. It was pretty standard. She was in Creative Fiction Writing with me, but I had to ask her via Facebook because she was never alone, and she said she would love to and she gave me her number and I was so sleep-deprived that I put it in under my own name and then stared at it for a long while as it slowly dawned on me that something wasn't right. Also, it was the wrong number because she transposed two of the digits even though I repeated it back for confirmation. But I still found her place all right. She said no one ever found it without calling for clarification, but I made a beeline right to it because I'm a genius. The choir put on a stellar performance as always. "I had a great time tonight," she said afterward. "I had a great time tonight," she said again when I dropped her off. "I had a great time tonight," she texted me a few minutes later. So I felt that it had gone very well and inquired about the possibility of doing something again after the break. "I don't know," she said. "I'm going to be pretty busy next semester. Also I feel I should tell you that I've kind of started dating someone." I've been emailing her on her mission, lest anyone think there are any hard feelings. The next night I went again by myself and met another great Indian guy who's been a great friend since then. I love Indians. I have gone on one date since then, though. Chick-Fil-A was giving out free food to college students. It took like an hour to get there because winter weather had knocked out the power on half of Main Street, and then it was super crowded and there was a big line, but that was all right because I had nothing better to do. I got to the line and then I ordered and wandered over somewhere to wait some more. Then this other girl from Creative Fiction Writing, the one who was usually glued to Emily, walked over to me alongside a friend who was unsuccessfully suppressing giggles for some reason. "Christopher," she said, "will you go to the Ladies' Choice dance with me tomorrow?" She seemed pretty confident that I hadn't already been asked even though it was, you know, tomorrow. Which I hadn't. But there was no shame in that. Most guys don't. But I said sure and then I said, "Did you ask me because I just happened to be here?" "Yeah," she said. "And I do like you, so..." Then she and her friend turned and walked away as if with an invisible mic drop. In one episode of "Psych", there's a part where Shawn says "Desperaux is alive!" and Woody looks at the tray full of plastic baggies ostensibly containing Deperaux's remains, pokes one of them, turns back to Shawn and says, "I'm quite sure that's impossible." That was the line that popped into my head in response to her disclosure. "I'm quite sure that's impossible." So I did what any normal person does when faced with inexplicable cognitive-dissonance-inducing circumstances, and decided not to think about it. My food arrived soon afterward and I ran into another friend and that was that. We went to the dance but after that night, although she sometimes likes my Facebook posts she never responded to my messages again. I have no idea what happened to restore the universe to its natural order, but maybe it was because afterward I said something to the effect of, "Are you going to leave now?" It was a very poor choice of words, but all I meant was that I didn't think she would want to stick around for another half hour while I helped clean up. Recently I was hanging out with a friend and he mentioned that he hadn't gone on a date in about a year but that it wasn't for lack of trying. He wasn't upset but just felt that he was doing what he needed to be doing so the results weren't his problem. I mentioned that I hadn't asked a girl out in almost a year. He said, "If you give up, nothing is going to happen." I didn't point out that without trying I had gone on more dates in that time period than he had. And also, maybe I prefer nothing happening to the somethings that were happening before. Did you ever think about that? No. You only think about yourself. One of my other friends got kind of mad at me. "You are withholding a wonderful blessing from a special young lady!" he said. Which, first off, is easy for him to say because he looks like freaking Adonis. And secondly... I'm not stopping this special young lady from stepping forward and claiming this wonderful blessing for herself. When I want a blessing, I don't just wait for someone to give it to me and get depressed when nobody does. This is a societal problem. The very existence of "Ladies' Choice" events indicates that the rest of the time they don't have a choice. Another friend (I have a lot of friends) mused on this the other night as he was driving me home. I had interrupted a conversation between him and his sister to offer them pizza, and she kind of looked like she wanted to go home and sleep forever, so I asked if she was all right and he started talking about her dating problems. I went on a date with her once by accident. When I say "by accident" I don't mean that I minded it, not in the slightest, but I just didn't realize that taking her to Freedom Fire counted as a date until I brought her home and her landlord was there and he asked "Is this your date?" and she said yes. Anyway, her brother talked about her dating problems and he said, "Dating must be real hard for girls. I mean, it's hard enough for guys to date who you want, but to feel like you don't really have a choice..." Why does it have to be that way? It doesn't. If he would have said "Doing James Earl Jones impressions must be real hard for girls" or "Growing ZZ Top beards must be real hard for girls" or "Peeing while standing up must be real hard for girls" I would have just shrugged it off as part of the inevitable fairness of life. But there is nothing sacred about these traditions our forebears have built up. They are not mentioned in "The Family: A Proclamation to the World". Most people can't give a real reason for them at all. Once I heard an institute teacher opine that it's unnatural for girls to ask guys out because the hunter doesn't like it when he has his prey in his sights and then suddenly feels eyes on his shoulders and looks back and sees another predator stalking him. I do have to concede that point because yes, strangely enough, most animals including humans want to eat and don't want to be eaten. It would be more accurate to imagine that the prey has a brain parasite that can only reproduce after it's been digested, so it makes the prey run toward the hunter and ask to be eaten. Taking the metaphor this far just exposes how stupid it actually is. Hunting and dating are not analogous. There is an evolutionary basis for these traditions, which arguably does render the role reversal "unnatural", but who says we need to let evolution tell us what to do? I say, if you want to ask someone out then ask them out and if you don't then don't. The end. The Cracrofts - Tyler and the Boy
I'm not going to explain the premise of this series or introduce the characters a third time. If you're confused, see here where it was introduced and here where more of it was shared. This storyline was omitted last time for space considerations but seems relevant now. Like "Meet the Mormons", it isn't finished because I don't know how I want it to finish. Zach Burns is named after Zack Burns, a guy I met at EFY who sadly is no longer with us. Tyler is sixteen years old, so this takes place in 2022.
Panel 1 Tyler: Hey, Zach! I was wondering... Panel 2 Tyler: You? Me? Chick-Fil-A? Tomorrow? 7? Panel 3 Zach: Sure, I'd love to. Tyler: Great. Here's my address. Don't be late picking me up. Panel 1 Zach: Hi, I'm Zach Burns. I'm taking Tyler on a date tonight. Rachel: Thank you, Zach, but your princess is in another castle! Panel 2 Zach: Ha, ha, classic! You're awesome, Mrs. Cracroft! Rachel: Congratulations, you passed that test. Panel 3 Zach: Phew! That's a load off my shoulders! Rachel: Yeah, I don't think I could let my daughter go out with someone who's never played the Zelda games. Director's Commentary: The joke, whether funny or not, is that the line is from a Mario game, not Zelda. If you didn't know that then you should also be made aware that the green-clad protagonist is named Link, not Zelda. Panel 1 Zach: Hi, I'm Zach Burns. I'm taking Tyler on a date tonight. Alvin: Hi, Zach. Nice to meet you. I'm Alvin Cracroft. Panel 2 [silence] Panel 3 Zach: So... that's it? You're not going to threaten to shoot me or anything? Alvin: No, but you'll probably beg me to later. Panel 1 Zach: Good night, Tyler. Thanks for the wonderful time. Tyler: Same back atcha, Zach. Panel 2 Alvin (from bushes): Pssst! Zach! Are you all right? How did it go? Zach: Oh, it was just marvelous. I can't wait to take her out again next week. Panel 3 Alvin: Did she threaten or blackmail you into that? I can have a talk with her. Zach (spreading arms): I'm in love, Mr. Cracroft! Panel 1 Alvin (in bed): Zach seems like a kind, polite young man with a good head on his shoulders and a promising future. Rachel (in bed): That he does. Panel 2 [silence] Panel 3 Alvin: Explain to me what he sees in our daughter? Rachel: Well, she has nice eyes. Panel 1 Rachel: Zach, my boy, if you wanna score with Tyler then you gotta be a great kisser. Panel 2 Rachel: And today's your lucky day, because I'm a great kisser and I'll teach you everything I know. C'mere. Panel 3 Zach: Er... is your husband okay with this, ma'am? Rachel: He put his face in his hands and sighed. I took that as a yes. Director's Commentary: That was loosely based on a real experience when my roommate's wife, who had also become a de facto roommate despite never paying rent or utilities, argued with him to let me kiss her "so that he can say he's kissed a black girl, and I can say I've kissed a white guy". So she was like "Come here" and he was like "Don't you dare" and I, unable to obey both of these conflicting orders, just about short-circuited. Isaac Asimov's laws of robotics never covered anything like this. Panel 1 (and only) Rachel (doing Tyler's hair): Each night I ask the stars up above, why must I be a a teenager in love? Tyler: And the stars whisper back, “First world problems much?” Kirk Douglas - A Whale of a Tale
In honor of you-know-who, here is a clip of him in Disney's "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" (1954) where he portrayed Canadian whaler Ned Land. There is a recorded version of this song with completely different lyrics for the last verse. Maybe some people found them offensive, but not offensive enough to redub the actual movie? Who knows. I mean, I'm sure somebody knows and I could know to if I bothered to look it up.
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- Amelia Whitlock "I don't know how well you know Christopher Randall Nicholson, but... he's trolling. You should read his blog. It's delightful." - David Young About the AuthorC. Randall Nicholson is a white cisgender Christian male, so you can hate him without guilt, but he's also autistic and asexual, so you can't, unless you're an anti-vaxxer, in which case the feeling is mutual. This blog is where he periodically rants about life, the universe, and/or everything. Archives
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