I was walking home the other day and I walked past a big pile of really nice rocks. I assume they were waiting to be used for some sort of landscaping scheme. I looked at the pile and I found a nice one about the size of a brick and I took it. Then when I got home I left it on my front stoop. Why did I take that rock? I have absolutely no idea. I don't know what to do with it now either. If anyone wants a big juicy rock its all yours.
It has a million uses, here are some suggested uses I just came up with:
1) Messenger
2) Attention Grabber
3) Portable misunderstanding clarifier
4) Consensus Builder
Anyway, I had a conversation with a friend of mine a few weeks ago and she suggested I do something important with my life and asked me why I'm wasting it.
Why aren't I doing anything with my life? It's simple really, I am doing something, but what I'm doing superficially seems insignificant compared with the deeply meaningful 9-5 that most suckers commit their lives too. As it happens I probably work in the neighborhood of 70 hours a week, but most of that time is spent designing things or writing scripts for web pages which won't make me rich or famous.
I suppose I could be doing something bigger. But I can't see why I should since most of the time I like what I'm doing, and I'm good at it. I am aware that most of what I do is more suitable to the Hobbies section of a chimpanzees resume, but so what? I don't respect awards or money or acclaim anyway. My yardstick for success is measured as how long it takes me before I can make myself laugh in any situation, any other basis is entirely bullshit.
But she thinks I'm not living up to my potential. I could have argued that I already wasted all my potential, but she's entitled to her opinion. Coincidentally she suggested I do something that I actually thought about doing while I was still in school. We both had the idea that I should become an immigration lawyer. Her thought was that I could help refugees who need asylum and so forth.
I had the same sort of idea. But what I was thinking was that a lot of people in the world want in to our blessed land of plenty and abundancy. Most of the world is full of doctors and teachers and scientists from less abundant nations who are dying to come to Canada even if it means to push a mop or drive a taxi. These people have life savings and they're motivated to make a deal.
This plan is opportunistic but the way I see it everybody wins. They get a fresh start and I get to assist their infiltration and make some fast cash to boot. I love immigrants, and not just because my mom was an immigrant who cleverly married a white shaitan and then spawned 2 sons of darkness, but also because I love foreign languages and food and art, except of course anything from Germany or Scotland.
I support massive immigration on a scale so huge that no two people in this country can understand a word the other is saying. As far as I'm concerned we're all too narrow minded and inexperienced with other cultures. If you ask me its time to dive headfirst into the 7 cultural seas. My desire is to transform this country into a giant immigration sponge.
I would help immigrants find homes and jobs in the blondest, blue eyed whitest neighborhoods. Hopefully I could find them a nice duplex and a reliable el camino or chevy nova that they can pack 16 into and spill out into the cloned suburban neighborhoods diffusing like Mambo music into the night sky from the after hours Cuban Night Clubs I'll pay them to set up in their backyards.
I want to see foreign faces shopping in the most caucasian stores and eating at the most caucasian restaurants. No Applebee's will be refuge from the people who come from countries we've never heard of but produce 99% of our consumer products. We will have to accept the fact that the world is full of people like us who want what we have. It will be hilarious. But this means I would have to go to law school. Bazoigs!
To change gears suddenly, I also have another career ambition. I've always hoped to someday be an established and widely criticized writer. This web page has been in decline for a while but it still works as a life support system for my neglected writer fantasy.
I am in the planning phase of a book. I have tentatively titled it How To Make A Million Dollars. Originally it was going to be an autobiography of a character named Farthing Pennycastle who would be composite of myself and Kurt Russell. The basic concept was, Everything I Needed To Know About Life I Learned While Watching Tango and Cash. Then I decided instead to make it a book of observations and essays about the 21th century and how its a good idea to keep your expectations low. It has nothing to do with making a million dollars.
Here is a tasty sample of a few of the chapter titles:
1) A lot of people say I'm a jerk, but they're the jerks.
2) How to not be so boring
3) If someone offers you something you don't want, feel free to scorn them
4) I can't be held responsible for everything people say that I said
5) Forget everything you think you know about building a potato gun
So as you can see I have a lot of plans and a busy life ahead of me. The only thing holding up these plans is that they are no good.