This is going to be notes for a future lecture/speech/video/TED Talk or whatever.
The title is both meant to provoke and to warn.
It’s meant to mildly provoke my fellow thinky type nerds into saying, “Oh yeah? Well we’ll see about that!” and thus get them to read it.
I know it would work on me!
And to warn them that it may well actually upset them.
I mean, you can’t very well get mad at me for upsetting you when I said I would right from the very start, can you?
Oh, and one more thing : Most of this will be familiar to dedicated readers of this blog.
So feel free to skim.
OK, now on with the show.
a. Would more money make you happy?
If so, why? What would more money let you do that would make you happy? Is money the only way to accomplish that? Is the problem really a financial one, or an emotional one? Is the real problem that you are sad, or lonely, or insecure, and how would a financial windfall solve that problem? And for how long? Do you truly believe that money can buy happiness? Did you know you believed that before I asked these questions? And are you afraid that if you said money doesn’t buy happiness, that will somehow influence whether you get more in the future? How? How does that even make sense?
b. Why did you lock the door when you left home today?
Because if you didn’t, people would enter your home and take your stuff, right? But that’s not really true, is it? Sure, that might happen, but probably not. Someone would have to be actively going around trying every lock in your neighborhood or your apartment building to see if any of them have been left unlocked, and that would be pretty obvious and risky, wouldn’t it? And yet, how else would they even know? If you accidentally left your doors totally unlocked before going on a month long trip, then came back to find nothing missing, would you be relieved? Or sad? Why?
c. What would you personally give up to end world hunger?
Say all powerful aliens come to Earth and offer to solve our biggest problems – cancer, world hunger, Covid, whatever – but only if we all make a personal sacrifice that truly means something to us. What would you be willing to give up?
It could be anything. Your second favorite watch? Your intramural sports team? A couple of hours a week of your free time? Your favorite chip flavour?
And why does this question make people so uncomfortable? Why does the mere theoretical contemplation of making literally any personal sacrifice at all make people practically break out in hives?
We’d all agree, in theory, that a chip flavour is less important than a human life.
So why do we refuse to sacrifice one for the other?
More after the break.
Yet more fuckery
So after about half an hour of indecisive dickering and choosing then changing my mind on half a dozen restaurants, I finally order my usual Large Build-A-Bowl from my new fave place, Pokey Okey.
Damn do I love their food. I am becoming a big fan of this poke cuisine.
So I read a pretty damned good gay furry comic (NSFW) while I waited for my big bowl of tasty delights. (Seriously, read it, it made me feel so good. )
The phone rings, and I immediately know there’s a problem because I can hear my Dasher’s voice quite clearly and distinctly and that means I am definitely NOT hearing him via our building’s PA/doorbell system.
Which, patient readers will recall, has the worst audio quality in the universe.
He asks me if I am sure the buzzer number is 0601 because it is not working for him.
Plausible. So I decide to just go down and get the damned food.
I was too hungry and impatient to dick around with out atrocious doorbell system.
But I was, at that time, naked. That’s not a problem for me but society has a problem with big naked fat dudes in lobbies, so I got to get dressed.
I tell the Dasher I will be down in a few minutes and get dressed. This takes around five minutes. Seven minutes tops.
I finally get down there, ready to apologize for the delay… and the fucker isn’t there!
He just plain left. Didn’t even call me to tell me he can’t stay. Just fucked right off.
So for the second night in a row. I have to contact Door Dash and tell them they fucked up my order.
In other words, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.
This time I said to hell with redelivery and opted for instant Door Dash credit instead. So my NEXT meal from them is paid for at least.
They even threw in six bux in “apology credit” on top of the refund, which is nice. And helps to soothe my aggravation.
I made supper myself instead. The main dish was the corn dog from last night’s 7-11 order, which seems fitting.
Oddly enough, it tastes even better reheated in the zapper than it normally does straight from the hot case at the 7-11.
Somehow the microwave brought a lot of nuance and depth to the flavour.
Maybe the hot case at 7-11 dries things out and the microwave drives the moisture back to the surface to be reabsorbed?
Anyhow, that’s tonight’s random fuckery by an increasingly dickish universe.
Maybe this is the cosmos’ way of keeping me actively aggravated so that I stay adrenalized and impatient and thus open to change.
If so, I have two things to say to the forces that bind the universe :
- Thank you for your kindness
- Fuck RIGHT off.
I think that about covers it.
I will continue the Questions That Will Upset You tomorrow. I have three more so far.
Who knows, I might think of even more upsetting inquiries before then.
Wouldn’t that be fun, kids?
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.