When the delay was announced, the crowd, never particularly well behaved in the first place, erupted in boos, jeers, and catcalls.
The Ideamaster Surpreme (IM) was used to this kind of thing, however, and remained unphased. “Grumble all you want, it makes no difference to me. I will be back from my break in fifteen minutes. No more, no less. ‘
Exactly fifteen minutes later, the “Ideas to be expressed” window opened again and the IM said “Alright, alright…. settle down, you bunch of hooligans. Now you all know the rules. I am not serving anyone until you form an orderly line and wait your turn. And no skipping ahead either!”.
Grumbling, the unruly crowd formed a ragged line and quieted down.
“All right, ” said the IM, “which one of you is first?”
“I am!” said a smart-faced young man as he stepped forward.
“Now are you really the first idea, or merely the most recent?” asked the IM.
The young man shrugged. ‘Does it matter?”
The IMK sighed wearily. “No, I suppose not. Well, let’s have it then. ”
The young man cleared his throat then mimed holding a microphone. “I think I’ve finally found a way to get more people to care about climate change. Tell them it will make traffic way, way worse. ”
The young man then paused for imaginary laughter.
“No seriously, people. This could work. You’ve seen how pissed off people get when anything interferes with traffic. People who have never had a political opinion in their lives suddenly are very engaged in local politics when traffic is on the line. ”
“So let’s use that rage to save the world. Tell people that climate change will make traffic everywhere far, far worse. Traffic jams that go on for miles. Bike lanes spreading like kudzu. A mass proliferation of idiots who slow down to rubberneck at accidents when people are trying to get to FUCKING WORK. The whole shebang. ”
“Play this right, and you could get a ‘Kill Climate Change Because FUCK TRAFFIC” bill passed within hours. ”
The IM nodded thoughtfully. “Not bad. Needs work, but the premise is solid and the observations are sharp. I will do my best to remember you. No guantees though. ”
The young man sighed, “Like usual, then. ” and left.
Next up was a petite, bespectacled, and immaculately dressed young woman. Prim, proper, and self-possessed, she walked straight up to the counter and looked the IM right in the eye.
The IM smiled at her. “Yes?”
She ahemmed, then in a loud clear voice said “The classic heroic story structure as interpeted in Western civilization can be seen as a battle between the human side of our brain and the far more primitive reptile brain. That’s why the villain is always someone who is superior to the hero on a reptile-brain scale – richer, more powerful, stronger, more dominant, and so on – whereas the hero always has only human virtues – courage, compassion, cleverness, higher morality, and so on – on their side. ”
“Thus, the triumph of good over evil in storytelling can be seen as the triumph of the human in us over the reptile. This interpretation is illustrated perfectly in the case of the mythological figures of the dragon. ”
“Not only is the dragon a literal lizard, but it is always depicted as being strong, powerful, rich, and utterly selfish and ruthless. “
“When St George sets off to slay the dragon, therefore, he is really re-enacting our own evolutionary struggle and triumph. ”
The IM blinked as though awakening. “My word, that’s good. I think you are really on to something there. We must speak more about this later. Next!”
Next up was a tall, fat, bearded man who was as unkempt as the previous client has been tidy. His slovenly appearance, however, was belied by the sharp intelligence in his eyes and the warmth of his smile.
Without preamble, he began. “I have noticed lately that when one of my usual social times with my friends comes to an end, I feel very depressed. “
“And I know why. It’s because I don’t want to return to my dumbassed life. When I am going from being with friends to being alone, I feel like I am a puppet who was lively and entertaining but is now being put back in its box. ”
“And I don’t want to go back in the box. I want to stay out where there are friends and fun and laughter. That’s what makes me feel good. That’s what makes me feel alive. ”
“And that’s a radical thought for someone with my social anxiety. I have spent a long time bowing to the feeling that being with people is danger and the only safety is in being alone, with nobody to judge me. ”
“But now I realize that was the disease talking, not the real me. The real me is far more sociable. And now that I have realized this. I can ask myself the all important question, ‘why can’t my life be more like the times when I am happy? Why do I always have to go back to my video game addicted stupid fucking life where, no matter how much I am enjoying the game I am playing, I am still basically just biding time until the next time when I can come out of my box and truly live. ‘ ”
“This is some serious progress relative to what has been my usual thing, which is that no matter how much I am enjoying my social time, part of me can’t wait for it to be over so I can scurry back into my hidey hole and go back to hiding from reality. “
“I really do, deep down, want to be around people. And I have no reason not to indulge that desire except for a lot of old, outdated fear that is not worth my time any more. ”
The IM smiles. “Good stuff! Consider it locked in. ”
“Great!” said the big man, with a warm smile.
And I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.