Monday, August 9, 2010

Residential Industrialism's Philosophical Father

It's nice to be known for something, and it looks like this one's not going to get away from me. No one remembers me from any of the other things I've either invented or originated, but that's OK -- I don't remember them either. I'm sure if I were younger and could wake up with a clear head everyday, I could think of at least one.

But this one I've got by the horns. It's ingrained in my daily thoughts and it's enshrined in the clear reality of the everyday world. You know how everywhere you look, except of course trackless uncharted territory, that there's an industry -- a factory, a warehouse, smokestacks, runoff ditches, and trucks lined up? I'm the guy who got it all rolling! I'm the philosophical father of all that!

I took something I opposed -- industry itself -- and turned it on its head. Like a brain surgeon, who reaches a very refined needle in there and touches something -- he doesn't even know what! -- and a leg twitches... Then he takes a bigger needle and excites another sector node, so that both legs go limp... Everyone's panicking that this guy's never going to walk again, but the surgeon holds the needle steady, knowing it's actually re-channeling other brain vitality to that area, despite appearances... Finally, power is restored to the legs, then the power is doubled and tripled until they're left with two indestructible legs and nothing else... I touched industry, and instead of industry going limp and dying, we ended up with nothing but industry!

I think that's the way to live -- especially if we had more worlds than we knew what to do with. We'd have this one for nothing but industry, and the others for nothing but city parks, vacation spots, fast food restaurants, and Skidrow districts, the unhappy world of clubs, bars, casinos, and bail bondsmen. But as it is, we have this one world, and what better way to bring prosperity to everyone than for each man to have his own industry! One, it gives each man something to do. And, two, it keeps prices dirt cheap, with the glut of goods we all enjoy.

Heh, I never thought of myself as a brain surgeon, but that's pretty good. I suppose I could've been a brain surgeon, if that'd been the specialty I'd thought of back when I was in school. It didn't occur to me. But the guidance counselors we had back then... "Go home and think over your future..." I'm not too sure what his problem was... Very paycheck-driven, no doubt... Since in the school system, of course, they just plug these people in where they need someone... You show up a teacher-type at school and they'll plug you in any old opening, lunch lady, math teacher, football coach, guidance counselor, etc. ... The educational system we have is very wink-wink, putting on a good show and hoping for the best at the other end ... So my guidance counselor, who would've probably been better suited to have been a weatherman, since all he saw was cloudy skies, didn't do squat for me... And now I'm sitting here thinking I could've been a brain surgeon, making enough money in 10 minutes of work to spend five years sitting on one of the resort worlds...

But I didn't get to be one of those. Instead, I had to scratch around, hang out here on Grandpa's half acre, taking care of Grandma. Other people have been driving by in convertibles, their hair blowing in the breeze, but I've been faithful on this land, mowing it, and waiting, waiting, waiting for my day to come. Then it came, and what am I? The philosophical father of the entire Residential Industrial Movement! And undisputed at that!

Yes, I'm looking after my legacy. I've been trained since the time I was a kid to know that if you don't look after yourself no one else is going to do it. I remember when I was a cub scout, there was some kind of mix-up over my two badges, the fox and bear badges, I think they were. These clowns in the scouting organization couldn't keep track of one kid's badges that he'd earned, I don't think I'd want them taking my kid camping in the wild! I had to bring in the paperwork, whatever it was, to prove that I'd finished whatever it was that made sure I could participate in the most basic pinning ceremony! That's a lesson you don't forget: No one's looking out for you, so make sure you keep your legacy in writing!

Someday there's going to be a clown who comes along, probably my guidance counselor, if he's still alive, with a bottle of rotgut on one of the Skidrow worlds, who's going to claim he was behind everything I achieved. You can see where it's going... That since he was the inspiration behind my future path, that technically he is the philosophical father of the RIM.

That's as much as I've got today.


Attached: The notes for today that I haven't got time to get to:

A 'tooting my own horn' post,
looking after my legacy,
hoping everything is in place as far as the historians getting the right information.

The relative slipperiness of historic time
1) How certain time goes faster than other time
2) How once you hit the downward slope in life it speeds by

How many people I hear of who are celebrating their 21st bday for the 40th time.

I know that I'm going to wake up one day and my life's going to be about over.

When people come asking me if I'm known for anything, I want them to be able to check the history books and find out.


Note: As best as I can remember it, having literally not thought of it for 50 years, there really was some mix-up about my basic cub scout pins, and I wasn't sure I was going to get them. Someone was crying about it, either me or my mom. The world of a kid is a strange one, and I remember it as a weird blur, where we somehow made it at the last possible second for me to get my pin. And everything has come with its complications ever since!

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