Nothing Is Real, and Nothing To Get Hung About

My hold on reality has always been a little tenuous. Okay, a lot tenuous. And now, it's moreso.

That is to say that people - the people around me from day to day, my co-workers, friends, roommates - seem unreal to me. I'm traveling through a world of symbols, metaphors and cyphers.

For example, a co-worker was having a friendly argument with another co-worker about which one of them was more "contained." [I do not make this stuff up.] So I went to the white board in my cube and transcribed their recounting of who was most contained, and who was least contained [I was amongst the least, if that counts for anything.] And then they made further lists, that I transcribed, of who was funniest [I came in 4th], smartest [4th again], most successful in ten years [did not place] and so forth. We were about to make the list of who would be dead in ten years when the one with the most common sense [not me] called a halt to the list-making.

But in this endeavor, all I saw was the reflecting pool. The meaning this had to the lister. What were they really trying to say ... I felt as if I saw it clearly, the striving to express placement, esteem, to express some deeper question about their own identity and self-worth [in their own eyes.] To express their disapproval of "showy smartness" and their approval of "cunning and modest smartness". And so forth. It was a display of values, and really nothing more. And it pleased me to watch it play out, almost exactly as I expected.

In short, it delighted me to come in 4th. I wish it could have been even lower.

Let me elaborate even more. Where others see a young girl with a tattoo, I see a broken home. A young man driving a small foreign car tuned for performance? I see a deep-seated insecurity. A toupee? An inappropriately young mate? A fear of mortality. But the people become unreal to me. I only see their calling card.

So what is my calling card? I have two hot Norwegian girls as roommates presently. It is so very odd. But I think it is meaningless as it happened by unexpected happenstance.

Well, I have had to confront some long deep-seated feelings I have had ... deep seated feelings of resentment against ... socialistic European countries.

I have discovered, for example, that Norway has the 2nd highest standard of living in the world [What does that mean? If you make more money but pay most of it in tax, does that still count?] But for me, what is more impressive is that they have $300 billion dollars in a fund, invested on behalf of their citizens. Now, that may not sound like much. But it is. When your country has 4.7 million citizens. That's about $70k in CASH for every man, women and barn [that's Norwegian for "child" you idiot] in the freaking country.

I don't know about you but I would feel much better about my life & world if I knew that the government had $70k waiting around in a fund with my name on it. And this is a country that has a reproduction rate of 1.84 [that is, you get 1.84 little Norskies back for every 2 full-grown Norwegians you bet. So it's a losing proposition.]

[One day, I will write a blog entry about my saddest realization ever. Witnessing my friend Tony's white coat ceremony. And knowing that the room would not regenerate itself. Sad? Yes, criminally so.]

But let's wrap it about about Norway. Regularly, Leonard Cohen albums reach number one on the charts [do they not realize that the man cannot sing a note? He makes John Cale sound like Bono. I apologize for that Dennis Miller-like take. Sorry.]

Not much else to add. Go Angels. And Trevor Hoffman, wherever you are, I still believe in you. Coors Field is the Bermuda Triangle. It wasn't you.