Big City Gets Negative Verdict

The Big City

Part 17 of 28 - My favorite

Of course it’s easy for me to sit here day after day railing against The Big City. You know I make a lot of good points. And this isn't something I’d lie about. I actually live in The Big City -- a guaranteed fact -- so everyday I'm mulling it over. Between watching TV, feeding the dog, and doing laundry along with a bunch of other chores. So it’s not like I’d be unfairly biased against it when it's now my whole life.

So that validates some of my opinions if not the bulk of them, and perhaps all of them. But no one can be right all the time. Whereas the less you say, naturally the better your opinions are and the more squarely they'll hit the bullseye of the public’s sense. I make that claim for myself, and statistically it’s borne out, I'm either always right or close, hitting the sweet spot on most of my statements and beliefs.

All that said -- which alone would prove my point -- I was still willing to put my opinions to the ultimate test by arranging a completely random interview with an individual, with all the safeguards and controls that go into it to keep the statistical hounds at bay regardless of other factors. Like it or not, I definitely went the entire extra mile, a lot farther than most guys go to show good faith.

OK, here's how it went: First, I took the time and expense to assemble a focus group, and they seemed fully prepared to judge the case. But  I detected bias with one guy saying it was a good day to be alive, which tainted the pool. I abruptly dismissed nearly the entire session with severe prejudice. I spared just one guy of the group, the same guy who thought it was a good day to be alive! The others were out, not only being tainted, but they were also either pessimistic or suicidal. It was this other guy's optimistic spirit that made me optimistic that he’d see it my way about the Big City.

This, however, was a sensitive moment. I had to keep him from bias, so I asked him not to speak again but to signal his verdict on The Big City solely by facial gestures. So we shall proceed to the questions and his facial answers:

Question number 1: Do you like sticking it to the man? A smiling UP, with eyes decidedly closed. For me, this was a big positive, saying he was more than happy to stick it to the man. I figured the survey would be a slam dunk against the Big City, but we still had quite a ways to go.

Question number 2: Is the Big City a good idea for children and other living things? Instead of his big smile just seconds before, he became like a wounded animal at the very thought of it. He gave it a firm DOWN. His answer strengthened my stance that the Big City is anathema for living things, being a negative gesture. 1-1.

Question number 3: Would you like to date the mayor of the Big City? A quick scrunchy-face DOWN. Which was a big surprise for me, because the mayor’s really quite an attractive guy. But it's probably just a case of him not swinging that way. Suddenly we were DOWN 2-1.

Question number 4: I was hoping this wouldn’t be a DOWN, because with only one question left there would be no way for the Big City to possibly eek out a victory. But I asked anyway: “What is your favorite thing about the Big City?" Since he could use only facial gestures, he seemed disappointed and would've preferred to give an oral answer. That gave us a DOWN, 3-1, with no favorite thing. Now the only way of climbing out of the hole being for the last question to be UP along with something underhanded. I could've gleaned that he'd rather marry the mayor than merely date him. But we didn't go there.

Question number 5: In what way is the Big City like lemons? He did what everyone does when they think of lemons, puckered up in a positive way -- making it an UP vote -- rounding out an otherwise disappointing total for the Big City at 3-2 DOWN.

So it was a negative result for the Big City, justifying my original negative take. Reflecting back on the interview, I thought it over, and realized how close it actually was. Clearly, the interpretation of the answers might’ve been jimmied if I were that kind of guy, a Big City shyster. But instead I played it fair and square all the way.

Jones

 

Part 28 of 31

The Found Another Body

Let’s go back to where it started, with people getting sick and tired of it, fed up with bodies being found in the river. Then it so happened that a guy whose actual name was Jones was a victim. Whether it was by foul play or his own personal date with destiny or the Angel of Death, Jones’ body was found in the river.

One thing seems certain: Jones never had an enemy in his life, unless we’re talking about the normal scuffles and fights we get into in school when we’re very young. In this case they did go back and talk to all his playground enemies and most of them could barely remember him and the ones who could remember him had watertight alibis. "I live in the other hemisphere of the world" was one of the best alibis, but maybe a little too convenient, but they let him go since he's lived there since 1959.

Closer to home, friends and relatives said Jones was generally a happy man. Being average in every way, how could he not be? He had the standard wife, the standard 2.4 children, a house with a roof, a job that was good enough, cars, trucks, TVs, etc., basically everything you need to make life a decent thing to behold, and something you’re glad to get up everyday to face again. Most of us wake up hoping our life will be as good as it was yesterday or better. And whereas sometimes we wake up and it isn’t as good or better, we keep going. Jones’ story was like that, but according to the reports he hadn't seen a negative thing in years, not even ordinary potholes in the road. We've had hail and his shingles are fine.

There was literally no reason Jones shouldn’t be with us still. Could it have been a fishing accident? He didn’t fish. Did he owe someone money? No more so than the usual guy whose credit is impeccable. You pay your bills and it’s not fun, but if it’s too much you cut something, one of the streaming services, the grandkids’ ballet lessons, your wife’s towel budget. Think of the cuts we could all be making. I watched a movie on one of my streaming services that I didn’t enjoy. If that’s the kind of movies they’re putting out these days, bare bosoms and hanky-panky, to heck with it!

Well, how ever it happened, it happened. Jones was found in the river. No apparent foul play, the water wasn’t any higher that day than anywhere else and it’d been a dry summer. And we covered his childhood acquaintances; they all live in another hemisphere, another state, or are above suspicion.

Again, there isn’t a single legitimate reason for Jones to be dead in the river. And that’s why the outpouring of sentiment has been 100% in his favor. The crowds are having fits, they're outraged as well they should be. And something’s got to be done, short of diverting the river, because we need the water. The mayor threw up his hands. The police shrugged their shoulders, saying, “Don’t blame us!” No, no one’s blaming anyone. We just have to be more vigilant. And keep our eyes wide open. Because if someone throwing our citizens in the river for no reason, we consider it our business to find out why. And once we’ve found out why, we’ll put a stop to it. And do what it takes to bring justice to Jones.

Think about it, fellow citizen, if it was Jones this time, next time it could be any one of us. Perhaps even you.

I Inked A Pact With The Police

I recently inked a pact with the police department. The basic terms state that I'll stay as good as I am, and that they will behave themselves regarding me. Now, according to the pact, when they see me in my car or yard or uptown, they'll remember I'm OK (good) and go about their business.

This is an old law, I guess, maybe a tradition, my grandpa told me about one time. They used to do it all the time, back when the police was more or less a ragtag organization of everyday citizens. They couldn't be everywhere at once. So your basic good citizen, like my grandpa back then, or me now, goes in for the pact-inking ceremony, and everything's hunky dory from then on. I've talked about it with others and hardly anyone's ever heard of it.

But the police still know, at least they did when I showed up. I filled in the paperwork and the whole thing was arranged. I went in and inked the pact with the chief and some of his underlings, sharing a ceremonial donut to seal the deal, which I don't eat in other circumstances. We exchanged handshakes, and as a sign of citizen-servanthood, showing my spirit, I spit-polished the chief's badge.

On my way out, the whole team of officers formed rows and a walkway down the center of the station for the chief to walk me to the door, where I promptly embarked my car and drove away in adherence to the speed limit. A little under the limit, actually, as an expression of good faith.

OK, I'm good all the time. So why do this obscure official ceremony? I think there's a lot of value in it. It formally reminds the police of their role in society, that they're there to serve. And for me, or anyone, that I'm here to be a good citizen, supporting the various pillars of good order. We're looking out for one another, something I take very seriously.

Now, for the absolute truth, they being a force, and being a multitude of individuals, have a tougher job of regulating themselves. All it takes is one bad apple. So they naturally benefit more from the ceremony, reminding themselves of their duties and giving them something to consciously live up to. Also, they can exert peer pressure on any potential bad apple in the bunch. If they can behave themselves in relation to me, and others who've inked a pact, that carries over for benefits to society as a whole.

But I'm just one person. So as for me, the ceremony has lesser value, except to protect me from them. Because I already know I'm going to behave myself even without having inked a pact. But I suppose it's good to be reminded. It could happen, say I was a lesser individual, that I might have a brain fart and go ballistic on society. (Don't worry, I won't.) But with our pact, if I felt that coming on, I could reread the pact and make more honorable decisions on guiding myself in society. Again, the whole thought of any of that happening, me going ballistic, is ridiculous. However, with the pact, it's even more farfetched.

Ultimately, the law and law enforcement are for those who have not the restraint. With the pact completely inked, and with any concerns the police may have ever had about me gone, they are now that much freer to deal with those other people.

Your Website After Death

If you have a website or blog, maybe you wonder, like I do, what will happen to it after your death.

I'd like to think that somehow, some way, everything would be nicely preserved for thousands of years. But that's not likely without real dedication on someone's part. How often just within the last 15 years, since the internet really got jumping, have sites come and gone, like Geocities? They give you a month to download your crap, then that's it. After that, you're out of luck.

Imagine your heirs. They think everything's going smoothly with the website they're trying to preserve, two or three years pass, they go back to check it, and Google has some new standard that you have to log-in before a certain date or it'll be gone. They just did that with "legacy blogs," blogs that hadn't been updated for a couple years.

So the idea of your website outliving you by very many years, while it's a great idea, is maybe unrealistic. It's certainly fraught with peril. On the other hand, they say that anything you say on the internet is imperishable, although that might be more true for embarrassing things rather than what you want everyone to remember. Like if you're a teacher and you've molested your entire class, no one's going to forget that. But if you're just an average guy like me, who's never molested anyone and isn't likely to, we have to fend for ourselves. The penalty for being good!

But let's think about that a bit more. Let's say you are a real cretin, like the teacher in the example, and you have a website. (And this goes for mass murderers, or a crazed killer like the guy who tried to kill the congresswoman, or even someone who bullies someone on Facebook into suicide.) As soon as their crime becomes known and they're infamous, you can set your watch by it, whatever they've posted on the internet will be gone within five minutes. Maybe it's because of the overload on the server, or because no one wants to be associated with them -- whatever, it's gone! Of course their incredible failure at life will always be known, just not the other...

And that's what it is for all these deranged people, they're an incredible failure at life. There's different ways at looking at life, existence, and what it is we are here to accomplish, if anything. More or less, I think we're here simply to reproduce, like every other species. Although we've tamed nature to a certain extent and don't need to reproduce like wild animals. But socially we have a purpose, and that's to get along as best we can, be a decent citizen, and someday pass on. People will say, "He lived a good life." But if you're deranged, or do something psychotic, like killing a bunch of people, we say, "What a failure at life! His one chance at life and he blew it!"

But they ought to leave their websites up. The publicity is going to die down. The rest of us then can preserve our own websites and blogs, and if we ever need to be reminded, we can go visit those folks' and tell ourselves, "I may not be much. But at least I'm not that asshole."