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2002-11-22 - 9:28 a.m.
[1]
Lately I have been trying to understand people's eccentricities as being part of their belief systems. It's easier for me to comprehend Brenn's leaving empty egg cartons on the kitchen counter if I ascribe it to a quasi-religious (and therefore supra-rational) reason. Instead of thinking "Brenn is a nut for leaving the egg cartons out" or "Brenn is a slob for leaving the egg cartons out" it all fits into place easier when I think "Brenn believes it is very important to leave the egg cartons out." It's a part of his faith. That way it's also easier to see how faith plays an active role in all of our lives, whether we group it under an organized religion or not. This week I'm learning more about my co-worker's beliefs. First of all, he believes that the contract workers at our company are not, as I put it, "drones." He believes we might even qualify as yuppies (!), but what he believes most of all is that he is some kind of paladin for hire, a mercenary or Samurai, and his working in a cubicle five days a week and getting no respect and getting his work taken away from him is all just part of that life. Well, maybe it is — who am I to argue with faith? On the other hand, sometimes people's belief systems clash with hard science. Think of poor Galileo, or even poorer Giordano Bruno. My co-worker probably wouldn't try to burn me at the stake over this, but today I put one of his most cherished beliefs to the test: that driving home from work in the opposite direction from where we live for two miles, then getting on the far freeway exit, is faster than driving towards we live and getting on the closer freeway exit. That can be measured! He even helped me measure it, at least the first way, so it will be interesting to see what happens to his belief when I tell him the experiment is completed. Here are the results:
Co-worker's belief way: 4.4 miles
Ian's "shortest" way: 2.7 miles
[2]
Tonight I got emergency between-TV-shows food from the K Street McDonald's, and noticed for the first time (had I even been in there before? Maybe not) how depressing that place was. It was almost completely empty, save for a couple of mentally disturbed customers on one side of the counter and a couple of mentally marginal employees on the other. They had a display case of thank-you letters from the community, which might have looked nice if you didn't scrutinize them, which I of course did. One thanked the store for hiring a mentally marginal employee, who was referred to as both "her" and "him" in the same paragraph. (Looks like someone doesn't know how to finesse a MailMerged document.) Another was a grateful (form) letter thanking them for donating some ice. "Ice" was underlined. As in, "thank you for the _____, it was just what I wanted." In yet another letter, the original "Dear _____" had been whited out, typed over with "K St. McDonald's." Polaroids of various employees of the month were stuck on the wall, showing their subjects standing uncomfortably in the landscaping by the giant "M" outside. Wow, their very own Polaroid with their name scrawled on the bottom in pen! Just to show how much the store cares.
[3]
Yesterday I read an article in the Wall Street Journal, where the reporter wrote about what had happened to the bully that used to torment him in elementary school. On the one hand, the bully died broke and alone at age 33 of AIDS, but on the other hand, he had a charmed life up until then! He waltzed into fancy construction work, was making six figures, lived the jet set life in Beverly Hills, had a superfancy wedding, and women kept going out with him even when he was abusive to them. If it wasn't for AIDS, he'd be a rich prick to this day! Yes, he had issues with intimacy... who doesn't? The lesson I take away from his life story isn't that "bullies will die penniless and alone, of AIDS," it's that "assholes get the money, the women, and, if they remember to wear a condom, they die of old age." It's the Stalin moral, or the Francisco Franco moral. (A corollary is that people who do good get shot, like Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr.) Worst of all, the bully's life seemed like an epic, like it was writ large against the sky, the way people like me only dream about. The bully! It might be harder to be a bully now, since I think you get in more trouble for committing felonious assault while in grade school, but I'd have to check on that. Meanwhile, parents should throw out the chess sets and the "Mozart for Babies" records and instead hope their kids turn out to be BULLIES.
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