Saturday, April 14, 2012

Some shocking news

Did you know there are people out there who don’t use their imaginations?

These people get through every moment of every day without asking a single “What if?” question. They sit through meetings at work thinking of things like sports teams and celebrity breakups and who will win Masterchef. Some of them might even be thinking about work. I know, right? These people walk among us.


Source

They could be building worlds. They could be setting up all their plot points like dominos, just waiting to bring the whole thing crashing down again. They could be living and dying, but they’re paying attention to words that somehow don’t mean anything, like stakeholders and outcomes and paradigm shifts.

These people do well at work. They are often focused and unaccountably motivated. They don't really ponder the inherent absurdity of  existence and, frankly, it shows. They're not even a tiny bit nihilistic, and hardly ever worry about how they don't understand the theory of relativity. It's all relative, they might say, but how can they know for sure?   

I worry about these people. I do. I want them to suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of someone else's Serious Talk because they thought of something random and unrelated. I want them wonder what would happen if Ice-nine was real and gravity wasn't. I want them, when they board up our windows at work because of the noise from the construction site next door, to understand why I felt plastering the place with these were necessary: 



If I can't see out the windows, there had better be a damn good reason for it. Because I might have the attention span of a goldfish, but at least it’s never boring in my head. How are things in your head? 

10 comments:

  1. I remember a statewide high school event where we were given these tags to wear on our shirts that said, “Hi, I’m…”, and then a big space where you were supposed to write in your name.

    I wrote, "Drunk," and as I wandered around and saw “Demented,” “Only a Hallucination," and “Wanted in Three Star Systems,” all of us imaginative types banded together, and it felt like I’d found my tribe.

    P.S. Too bad your book isn't about zombies in Australia - those signs would be awesome promotion materials.

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    1. I totally would have hung out with you at school, MC! And the kid who was wanted in three star systems, because intergalactic rebels are awesome.

      A teacher once told my mother I was "eccentric". I prefer to think I was entertaining, but each to their own, right? This was after an ancient history oral presentation, where I stood up and said, "Hi, I'm Gaius, and it's okay to be Gaius."

      And ooh, maybe it is a zombie story! I'm a pantser, remember? It could still be anything!

      Delete
  2. I worry about these people too, mostly because they always look at me as if my non-sequitur outbursts are completely inappropriate. But somebody has to consider the possibility of alien invasions, zombie apocalypses, and diabolical wizard attacks. I mean, I'm not getting caught without a plan. That's why non-creative "red-shirt" characters were created.

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    1. Absolutely, LG! On the day of the inevitable invasion/apocalypse/attack suddenly my "Do you think that an island or a mountain cave would be easier to defend from zombies?" questions won't be a waste of time at all, will they? Good luck saving yourself with that memo.

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  3. Things in my head are a heck of a lot more interesting than in those boring peoples' heads. And of course the zombies will come after our juicy delicious brains first. How unfair.

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    1. It amazes me that boring people don't ever see, to bore themselves, because they bore the heck out of me. Maybe they have lower standards.

      And the zombies might come for us first, but they won't get us because we've thought though a thousand different scenarios and won't be taken by surprise.

      Delete
  4. I laugh at random and unrelated things all the time. I can't imagine not doing that :-)

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    1. Me too, Sarah! I'm afraid that if I stopped, I'd start paying attention to the Real World, and that would be depressing.

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  5. My daughter stopped sitting with me in church. That is all.

    Marian Allen
    Fantasies, mysteries, comedies, recipes

    p.s. How goes it with the possums?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's funny!

      and..ugh...the possums! Yeah, they're back! I'm spending a lot of money on bananas I'm not getting to eat.

      Delete

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