The more things change...

In 1881 Alexander II of Russia was assassinated by an organization called Narodnaya Volya.  Alexander II was known as The Liberator largely because of his emancipation of the Russian serfs but it deserves mentioning that his rule was noteworthy for a general tendency to bring greater liberty and reform to a country that was remarkable for its tyranny and corruption.  However, the pace of change was deemed inadequate by the members of Narodnaya Volya and so they decided to cast one big vote against Alexander II in the form of a couple of bombs.  It worked and Alexander III quickly got a fancy new title.

It is ironic that the successful assassination attempt failed in every conceivable way except in that it did kill the intended target.  In fact, it failed twice.  Alexander III, not surprisingly, determined that if his father's reforms were rewarded with an explosive outcry from the people, perhaps it would behoove him to go the other direction.  And he did with a vengeance.  Suddenly the Russian people found themselves enjoying a heretofore unexplored level of repression and government cruelty.  To the members of Narodnaya Volya (the ones who managed to avoid the gallows at least) this must have seemed an extraordinary step back from where they had intended to go.  This was failure one.  However, the sweeping rollback of reforms did infuse the people with a taste for revolution and government toppling that would ultimately manifest itself in 1917 with the rise of the Lenin (whose older brother was a member of Narodnaya Volya who did not escape the gallows.)  And so freedom from tyranny and corruption for the Russian people was ultimately achieved.  Ha.  Just kidding.  This was failure two.

Amazingly Narodnaya's ultimate goal of overthrowing the tsarist regime and creating a more people-based system of government was achieved but this also created one of the most oppressive and corrupt governments in the history of the entire world, the Soviet Union.  How could this have happened?  How could a ragtag group of freedom fighters be so successful in their activities, ultimately achieve their greatest goal (well, a group similar to theirs did at any rate) and still be such a colossal failure?

There are myriad reasons of course (I suspect more of them are unknown than known) but it seems culture is extraordinarily resistant to rapid change.  Societies evolve over time but rarely do they change at the behest of a moment.  No matter how dramatic.  Titles can change quickly--a society may go from being ruled by a tyrannical monarch to a tyrannical Committee of Public Safety but the important thing here is that they are both tyrannical.  The most striking thing about the period in the US between 1776 and 1791 was just how little actually changed.  Titles changed.  Maps had to be redrawn a bit--good time to be a cartographer.  Side note:  If you are a cartographer why would you live anywhere but Africa today?  When was the last time the US needed a new map?  Seriously.  Africa needs weekly updates.  Anyway--back to the point:  but life in America changed very little actually.  At least, for the vast majority of the people.  And while slavery, in America, didn't last past the 1860's a society of racial equality and harmony is still a bit of a work in progress.  Titles and names change quickly.  Very little else seems to.

I'm not really sure what it takes to change quickly but I really want to find out before I fall head-over-heels with another woman who considers hearts trophies to be collected and displayed...perhaps even devoured.  My history with women is a long, pathetic saga of the same and the same and again.  Sure...I might go from a blonde man-eater to a brunette man-eater or maybe even an articulate, well-educated heart destroyer to a...well..let's just say that I never saw a bookshelf in her house heart destroyer but in reality it always seems to be the same girl.  I am tired of it.  The little society of my heart is not evolving at a pace I consider adequate but I recognize the futility of trying to foment change via dramatic action or revolution.  Crap.  ...the more they stay the same. 

News from the front....

First snow eh?  Well, I'm not particularly given to boasting and I hate to play the one-up game; however, I feel it would be remiss if I didn't mention that Alabama got its first library last week.  Not only that--the Governor has arranged for a couple of nice folks to fly in from Atlanta to show us to operate books.  Apparently you've got to learn to read (whatever that means.)  He said that when he spoke with them on the telephone they described reading as "looking at words."  Ain't that just crazy?  I tell you, technology is here to stay.  Me and some other folks tried to get a leg up on this reading business by yelling as loudly as we could at each other but none of us saw a thing.  We're pretty excited for those city-folk to get here and show us how to do it.

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If by a little noise you mean myriad tirades against the holiday season, then yes...I made a lot of noise.  Tempting to send you some of the polemic e-mails I wrote about it all for my friends.  However, they probably stretch the bounds of decency a bit too far.  Suffice to say I'm not a big fan of the holidays.  As soon as New Year's Eve is over I can finally relax and enjoy the chillier weather without having to worry about being forced to mingle with strangers I don't care about over watered down drinks at someone's house I don't like while trying to avoid having a seizure due to their flashing light, reindeer themed tie.  Particularly difficult to do when they just got it and remind you of how funny the thing is every five minutes.  Sometimes I think couples rehearse the stories they're planning on torturing me with before they show up.  I think that because I can overhear them retelling the story to other people with the exact same "interruptions" and jokes.

Apologies--I've been told I'm like Scrooge and the Grinch all rolled up into one bitter, sarcastic ball of holiday anger.  I should make an effort to try to and be more merry but is there any good reason to celebrate something that closes down every restaurant in town?  I don't even know how to turn my stove on.  The little bit of foresight I did exercise before yesterday was in buying plenty of cigarettes before the great city-wide shut down.

Oh!  Oh!  I've heard Christmas in New York is beautiful but let me tell you, Christmas in the buckle of the Bible Belt is like nothing most sane people have ever dreamed of.  It is the craziest mixture of religious zealotry, patriotic fervor and cheap looking lawn decorations outside of NASCAR.  Throw in a lot of booze and a big sale at Wal-Mart and you've got the redneck equivalent of Through the Looking Glass as written by Jeff Foxworthy on an amphetamine bender.

Okay, I better stop.

Glad to hear the weather is nice in sanity land.  I should have gone to San Diego and stayed.

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Life hasn't been too bad actually.  Alabama's stunning transformation into a progressive land of milk and honey continues unabated.  We are diligently adopting many of the social and technological marvels developed during the Renaissance at a pace that would give a stalactite a heart attack.  I think we reached a cultural milestone recently when the last tornado to come through town destroyed apartment buildings instead of trailer parks.  We are quite proud and touted how much better wall board looks flying across the sky than wood paneling.  Fortunately no Waffle Houses were destroyed so although some people were left homeless, bloody and financially devastated no one was deprived of their daily allotment of grits. 

Nevertheless, it was a tragedy in Alabama and a lot of prayer groups were quickly formed to beseech Paul "Bear" Bryant to treat the victims of the storm with charity and kindness.  Apparently it worked because shortly thereafter it was announced that Conway Twitty will soon be releasing another greatest hits album.

Not that I'm bitter about living in the punchline of a country that has 300 million people or anything.  I'm just saying.

Please let me know if tomorrow will be okay for that list.  Thanks for saying good things about me to the boss too.  Always nice for him to hear good things about me from someone other than me.

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Sorry about the storms.  If you care to send a few my way it would actually be much appreciated.  We've been averaging a high around 100 with a humidity level of 99.999999% for the past several weeks.  Absolutely ferocious.  Even the locals are complaining about the heat--I suppose at some point I'll have to concede that I'm local...but not yet.  I find myself enviously staring at guys walking by in their loose-fitting, sleeveless t-shirts featuring race cars, eagles, hunting dogs, or clever reflections on life lovingly emblazoned on their chests.  I feel guilty and stupid when I remember the scorn I used to feel for people who would patronize some of our nicer restaurants (Waffle House) without shirt or shoes (yes those signs are there for a reason), now I humbly confess that the veil of ignorance has been lifted from my eyes and what I considered to be low-class and shameful was actually a Darwinian adaptation to the local environment.  Survival of the most scantily clad.  I've started wearing sandals to work not because Jerry Garcia's music has taught me to love my fellow man and I wish to express those fraternal feelings through the use of minimalist footwear; rather, wearing socks in this weather is a bit like going to Dr. Kevorkian for a head cold.

There are bodies of the hopelessly hip lining the streets here in Montgomery.  Women who insisted on wearing faux-fur lined boots despite the obvious danger and didn't make it to the air-conditioned safety of the strip mall before collapsing into a wonderfully fashionable lump that smells of Lacost form a glamorous walkway of the dead into some of our swankier retail establishments. 

There was a time when the most dangerous job around here was being the game warden--hunting laws receiving roughly the same level of respect as Jackson Pollack's work in  Alabama--but these days there is a new way to earn money and court the specter of Death in Dixie:  become a weatherman.  Folks seem to have decided that since their particular deities were not a good target for blame, they would hold weather people responsible for this little hot spell.   I know these people.  Frustration will eventually manifest itself into violent action and if weathermen don't 'decide' to lower temperatures a tad they're going to have to start wearing kevlar.  One thing I can comfortably say about my peers here--they are not all talk and no action.

Oh well.  Frankly, a few more days of this heat and I'll probably join the rioting mob as we drag the weathermen out of their homes and force them to wear the entire North Face winter catalog.

Hope things get better in NYC--but not before they do here,

Work E-mail 1

Good morning everyone,

 

Great news!  The 2011 magnet calendars are here.  If you would like one please come by my desk and help yourself.

 

Fun magnet facts:

 

 - Did you know that magnets can be used to cure people who like the Goo Goo Dolls?

 - Magnets were invented by unicorns in 1938.

 - If you get lost in the woods magnets can be used to attract bears.

 - When robots try to conquer our civilization in 2013 magnets will become very important.

 - When chimpanzees try to conquer the robots in 2015 magnets will be important yet again.

 - Supervillains whose powers are magnetic-themed are considered nerds by other villains.  People who know this are also nerds.

 - Except me...not a nerd.  Well, maybe a little.  Okay, big heaping pile of nerd.

 

Thanks,

Plastics

The weirder you're going to behave, the more normal you should look.  It works in reverse, too.  When I see a kid with three or four rings in his nose, I know there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about that person.  ~P.J. O'Rourke

 

When I studied Shakespeare in school we spent a lot of time talking about appearance versus reality.  Nothing unusual about that I know but I've been thinking on it lately--how the idea applies in my own life.  I got started on this when a friend, who has recently taken up mountain biking, was talking about how scary it can be zipping around on a narrow trail with only a helmet and gloves for protection should your zooming result in flying over the handlebars or picking bark out of your facial tissue.  I am sadly familiar with both of those scenarios.  But it reminded me of the insane rush and excitement of mountain biking and then my poor little wandering brain began comparing it to the similar but completely different exhilaration of riding a roller coaster. 

 

It is completely different because a roller coaster only presents the appearance of danger whereas mountain biking has the real thing.  I suspect more people get hurt in line waiting to get on the roller coaster than on the silly thing itself.  Certainly I've come pretty close to administering some injuries to bratty little kids and/or people from Boston in those lines.  But once you're on the ride safety equipment, physics and engineering all combine to ensure that you only appear to be at risk.

 

Same thing with Vegas.  You can appear to be partying wildly and out of control but if you actually put one toe out of line large men wearing blazers, ties and ear pieces will swoop in with remarkable speed and demonstrate just how under control you really are there.  They have cameras everywhere.  Everything is monitored and everything you do has to be approved by someone.  Otherwise your visit will come to an abrupt end.  It is the appearance of wild partying not the reality.  The reality is that people stream in and out of that town like salmon swimming up and down rivers.  I'm sure each fish feels like it's the marvelous adventure of a lifetime but in truth, it's the same thing everyone else does and there is nothing remarkable about it.

 

Facebook offers a stunning array of opportunities for people more concerned with appearance than reality.  Not only do you get to pick and choose those elements of your life which are presented to the world but you even get to frame them however you please.  Did you have lunch at the same restaurant you always go to with the same three people you always eat with?  Well, if you say that on FB people...pardon me....friends might think you're boring.  No, no...that will not do.  Jazz it up a little.  Just say that you had the most spectacular culinary experience in the history of mastication [McDonalds] with three of the most wonderful people on Earth [coworkers].  See?  Isn't that better?  Now everyone thinks you're cool and have things going on in your life.

 

But, like I said, this got me thinking about my own life.  Of course we all do this to some extent--like Billy Joel said in The Stranger, "...we all have a face that we hide away forever...." but this problem of fake people seems to have reached epic proportions in my life.  Everyone so concerned with keeping up appearances that the substance that should support the image instead becomes a hindrance and is allowed to atrophy.  It rots away from right under the skin leaving only a shell of a human that is incapable of withstanding a stiff wind much less the turbulent storms that life sometimes tosses around.  Shallow, flaky people.  Shakespeare, can you help me out?  I'm looking for a little reality my friend.

 

Searching for a kindred weirdo...

It's a strange sadness and I can't quite wrap my head around it.  But the two good things about my situation are this:

My life is almost unforgivably convenient.  How awful for those people who are stuck in an unhappy relationship.  Not only are they suffering something akin to heartache but they're being forced to do it around someone else's life.  I am grateful that if I'm in the mood for pizza there is no discussion of what toppings to get or if I want to watch tv not only do I get to pick what I watch but I also get to control the volume.  I never have to pretend that I'm happy to see someone or ask someone about the banal trivialities of their day.  If you decide to go through a period of self-pity and sadness it's really nice to not have to compromise much while you're going about it. 

The other nice thing is that I'm really not broken up about any one person in particular.  I don't feel like my romantic happiness is contingent on this one person who just destroyed me.  It's true.  There are moments when something might trigger a memory and make me pine for someone from the past but that actually happens in regard to many of the women I have had relationships with over the years.  So, while sitting at Starbucks one morning I might suddenly think about an irreplaceably magical moment with one girl but later, that afternoon, at Starbucks I might get all soft and mushy thinking about another.  Not to mention the girls that I would like to ask out but can't due to a crippling fear of happiness.  My imagination has always been more vivid then my memory so I can get butterflies just imagining the great times to be had with all these other beautiful women dancing around in my head that I just can't work up the nerve to ask out for a pizza.

That said I do feel a mysterious pang in my heart.  I suspect that part of it is that the aspect of me which yearns to sing about love and romance has lost his voice again.  No reason to sing if there's no one around to hear it...you know?  And also a pang for all the memories that I created with these various women that feel like they have been rejected and discarded.  That's probably being a bit overly dramatic (but this is me) but in many ways it's true.  If I had known that she was simply going to end our relationship one day I wish I could transfer that beautiful memory I had with her to someone else.  If one person can walk away from the power of a memory it's rather sad that the other cannot.  A shame that we don't all wind up in love with our sixth grade sweet hearts so that those memories which are created over the course of a lifetime can be shared forever.  As it stands, I have a lot of wonderful memories that will always be mine alone.  Those that might have shared them are gone from my life almost as though they were dead and their ghosts can haunt me from the past in my head.

On a larger level it is saddening because it really does make me feel like an outcast from society.  How is it that everyone else can find a match (the retarded, the ugly, the assholes, and even the homeless) but somehow I get left alone?  How is it that I have come to be ostracized?  Probably my own doing I know but I don't even understand where I went off track.  I see all the happy pairs everywhere I go.  How did that happen?  How did everyone find someone to fall in love with but me?  Am I really that much of an outlier?  So strange that I couldn't even find a kindred weirdo? 

Sorry--just ranting.  I'm not actually very sad.  Just a little sad.  Still not exactly sure why though.  I'm going to get some more coffee.