My Various Intellectual Afflictions

• Start with the minor stuff first—data blindness. I just don’t get it! But fortunately today’s social culture is basically organized around that condition so it’s no biggie.

• Data-less Certitude: my doctor insists it’s a problem but I insist it’s clairvoyance. Either way, with data-blindness you have no choice but data-less certitude, unless you want to sound weak. Bwuuhh!

• Proof-of-Concept Satisfaction : why actually build-out and patent and sell it if you’ve already attained proof of concept? The idea works? Then ok I’m done here thanks, call the tinkerers.

• Anti-Resonant Discourse: Around intellectuals I like to talk crass and loose, with slapstick pantomime gestures and cheap sound effects for punctuation and emphasis, sometimes in lieu of substance, yes. Plus swearing. Sometimes in lieu of content. But around normal people I like to reply in fact-soaked over-nuanced pedantic paragraphs—their emphatic crass simplifications leave me no choice! ‘Bothers me, bwuuhh!

• Laurel Resting: sure it’s not a whole wreath—I ain’t no Marcus Aurelius—but let me tell you, the couple leaf-scraps I got are damn comfortable. Give me another leaf and I’ll sleep on them for years.

• False Modesty: I actually don’t have this. So it’s true. But I shouldn’t brag.

• Denial: not.

• Pre-Conclusive Burnout: this is similar to proof of concept satisfaction but applies more to written discourses and I guess films and elaborate artworks if I ever tried one. When the discourse is fully rolling and the end is almost in sight—well shit, the rest all kind of plays itself out automatically, I’d be just filling in the blanks like a clerk or an applicant to become a clerk, that ain’t creating, that’s dull… What else is good?

So like this column here, this “Perverted Wisdom” installment bit—we got what, eight jokes? We really need ten or more for a complete column and I certainly have more afflictions to cover but hey, you all see where this bit is going, you see the concept works, more items would just be like filling in a paint-by-numbers image; I’m going to sleep.

On my scraps of laurel leaves I scored through clairvoyance.

(‘Total paint-by-numbers conclusion joke there, simply reprising two earlier jokes so as to “mock” the data-integrating conclusiveness of real discourse. See what I was saying? Bwuuhh!)

Space sucks but have a nice Baktun anyway

All in all, the 13th baktun (AD 1618 – 2012) was a mixed bag. If you ignore the heavy casualties (and we all do) it was a pretty good baktun.

But still, I’m glad it’s done. So let’s address the important issues of the new baktun, like space:

Unfortunately, Mars is shot.

It’s over, over there… So over.

And forget about the Moon. Pay it no mind.

What you want is the Lost Dutchman’s Asteroid–a 200-ton nugget of pure palladium. It’s out there and I got the secret maps from a salty old drunk guy.

Beyond that, one of the biggest obstacles to more distant space travel is the mysterious problem of Deep Space Paranoia. DSP causes two overwhelming ideas to fixate in the astronaut’s mind:

1.  What the fuck am I doing out in this horrible shitty Void?!

2.  Everyone back on Earth is laughing at me for being the stupid schnook who agreed to get stuck out in this horrible shitty Void. They only pretend we’re heroes!

That’s why it’s important for mission control centers not to be overly jovial around the microphones, or to talk about the astronauts’ spouses too much.

To completely avoid DSP among astronauts, space agencies sometimes hire sociopaths–people who genuinely don’t care about their fellow Earthlings and the stupid shit they think. Or people used to being laughed at anyway.

But the use of “trekkies” and “trekkers” has proved disappointing. They really freak out.