Have you ever wondered what someone would think if they had absolutely no clue what our society was like, and took the time to observe our customs? Like, if they were aliens from outer space, and came as anthropologists to observe Earth customs? Now, that said, they'd probably be very confused by the variety of Earth customs because, as we know from Star Wars, Star Trek, and every other classic science fiction story, each planet has a set of customs that is uniform throughout the entire planet, but unique to that particular system. Oh, and typically their climate is pretty uniform throughout as well.
So, let's pretend our alien anthropologists landed in America, realized the Americans firmly believed their culture was the universal culture of the planet, and the aliens believed it too. What would they write about us in their "Understanding Earth" textbooks, meant for all the little tykes preparing to understand our culture so they can come preach their Imperialist propaganda and assimilate us into the Galactic Confederation of Oppressed Systems United Under Their Eternal Love for the Puppet Figurehead Ruler Who Is Controlled By His Power-Obsessed Mother (see! I'm getting so good at Sci-Fi!)?
I had this question tonight as I watched the ball drop at Time Square. It was QUITE the occasion:
Count down! Ten... nine... eight... seven... thirty two... eighty six... five hundred and ninety two thousand, six hundred seventy one... six... five... four... three... banana... two... one... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Confetti! Fireworks! People laughing! People crying! People swaying back and forth, hugging each other, pointing at the cameras! It was like the occasion they had been waiting their whole lives to see!
The alien anthropologist steps back to observe the celebration and all the euphoria. He pulls out his notebook.
"Elation bordering on hysteria," he writes. "What is this momentous occasion? What is being celebrated? Such excitement! This event is either once in a lifetime, or has great religious significance. A celebration of their deity, perhaps?"
"Excuse me," he says to a passerby. "But, can you tell me what is going on? What is this great event we are celebrating here tonight?"
The passerby gives him a weird look. "Oh, dude, you are so wasted!" And then he walks away.
Our alien anthropologist is perplexed. "I haven't wasted anything. I've made excellent use of my resources. And what is a dude?"
He asks the same question to another random stranger, curious about the reaction he's going to get.
The random stranger lifts his head, one eye closed, the other half open, his mouth attempting to form words. "Aw, man! ... Happy new year, man... your skin is blue... or maybe it's periwinkle... yeah... happy new year... new years, man... It's the NEW YEEEAACCCGGH!" The stranger then proceeds to puke on the alien anthropologist.
The alien takes a sample of the puke in a metal vial, then returns to his notebook. "Celebration of the New Year. This festival happens annually. Earth has deified the concept of time... perhaps even personified it, creating the 'Father Time' I have heard them mention so much. These people consider themselves the children of time, and the beginning of a new year is a time of great celebration and religious zeal."
He then returns to his ship, and tells his superiors he has identified a concept that can be used to preach Imperialism of the Galactic Confederation to the citizens of Earth. They award him with the outer space equivalent of the Nobel Conquest prize. Congratulations on your excellent observations, dear alien anthropologist.
Meanwhile, the rest of us who are NOT at Time Square hang out, eat pizza, and think, "Oh. It's 2011 now. Cool. I hereby resolve to lose weight, exercise regularly, and donate more to charity. Ooh! Five cheese with pepperoni AND pineapple! Yes! My life is complete!"
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Zombie Apocalypse of... Vacation?
It's official. I am a zombie.
Yep, that's right, I am now a member of the undead.... though mostly dead.
In those rare moments in which I am not konked out on my bed... or the couch... or my mom's bed... or the floor by the fire... I am struggling to keep myself conscious. Right now, as I sit on the floor with my back against the couch (the whole of which is being occupied by my ipod-playing little brother, who probably doesn't even realize that I'd really like to sit on it... that's called a communications break down, children. When the person who wants to sit on the couch does not mention to the person hogging the couch that she wants to be a person sharing the couch, but simply sits on the floor by the couch thinking about how her brother who is hogging the couch needs to be zapped by a mutant lightning bug so that he will turn a niiiice, crispy, black color with his hair standing straight up, then we have a gap in communication. Pretty sure I'm the source of that gap.)
Where was I?
Ah yes, being a zombie.
Anywho, as I sit here on the floor, I look to my right, and my cat - a lovely Siamese specimen who answers only to "Your Majesty" or "Master" - is curled up in a ball, hugging her tail and sleeping peacefully. I can see the rise and fall of her little stomach, and I am filled with such a jealous rage that SHE can sleep WHENEVER she so desires for AS LONG as she might wish, that the flesh on my face starts falling off, and I start talking like, "GRAHW MRAHW NANANAHR!!!! roarsqueak," and I suddenly want to go chew on her sides.
Actually, in all honesty, I kinda do want to go chew on her, just because she'd leap about 50 feet in the air, making the only noise she knows how to make ("HHHHGGGCCCCCHHHHH!" that's a, um, hiss, if you couldn't tell), and her tail would poof out to roughly the size of a canoe.
But I digress.
I am a zombie.
What is it about my body that has abandoned the sunny world of the living to go snooze for about 75% of my vacation? I just don't get it! I sleep full nights and sleep in the days, and want to sleep when I'm not sleeping. My family tells me not to worry about it - I've had a rough semester and my body is trying to catch up from the stress, and replace its depleted chemicals and recuperate and all that. It IS true - my body does feel like it's finally letting go of the tension that has been making my shoulders ache for the last 3 or 4 months. My Daddy has been irreplaceable in that aspect - his massages are sublime!
BUT! I'm losing my vacation to my exhaustion! I know the point of vacations is to relax (OR mega-stress yourself out from trying to do everything you want to do in the limited amount of time you have - but this isn't that kind. This is a nice week at home, playing with my family, and resting up), but really! The relaxing is making it nigh impossible to spend the time with my family that I would like to spend!
Alright, I resolve that tomorrow I shall stay awake the WHOLE day. No more zombie nappy nap time. I shall no longer be among the undead.
Which means, I have about 3 remaining seconds to go all zombie-freak, chomp my little brother in the stomach and tickle him off one of the couch cushions.
Bwah. ha. ha.
GRAHW MRAHW NANANAHR!!!!
Wow. He just kinda looked at me and said, "You realize you just smacked your head into my knee, right?"
Zombie fail.
Yep, that's right, I am now a member of the undead.... though mostly dead.
In those rare moments in which I am not konked out on my bed... or the couch... or my mom's bed... or the floor by the fire... I am struggling to keep myself conscious. Right now, as I sit on the floor with my back against the couch (the whole of which is being occupied by my ipod-playing little brother, who probably doesn't even realize that I'd really like to sit on it... that's called a communications break down, children. When the person who wants to sit on the couch does not mention to the person hogging the couch that she wants to be a person sharing the couch, but simply sits on the floor by the couch thinking about how her brother who is hogging the couch needs to be zapped by a mutant lightning bug so that he will turn a niiiice, crispy, black color with his hair standing straight up, then we have a gap in communication. Pretty sure I'm the source of that gap.)
Where was I?
Ah yes, being a zombie.
Anywho, as I sit here on the floor, I look to my right, and my cat - a lovely Siamese specimen who answers only to "Your Majesty" or "Master" - is curled up in a ball, hugging her tail and sleeping peacefully. I can see the rise and fall of her little stomach, and I am filled with such a jealous rage that SHE can sleep WHENEVER she so desires for AS LONG as she might wish, that the flesh on my face starts falling off, and I start talking like, "GRAHW MRAHW NANANAHR!!!! roarsqueak," and I suddenly want to go chew on her sides.
Actually, in all honesty, I kinda do want to go chew on her, just because she'd leap about 50 feet in the air, making the only noise she knows how to make ("HHHHGGGCCCCCHHHHH!" that's a, um, hiss, if you couldn't tell), and her tail would poof out to roughly the size of a canoe.
But I digress.
I am a zombie.
What is it about my body that has abandoned the sunny world of the living to go snooze for about 75% of my vacation? I just don't get it! I sleep full nights and sleep in the days, and want to sleep when I'm not sleeping. My family tells me not to worry about it - I've had a rough semester and my body is trying to catch up from the stress, and replace its depleted chemicals and recuperate and all that. It IS true - my body does feel like it's finally letting go of the tension that has been making my shoulders ache for the last 3 or 4 months. My Daddy has been irreplaceable in that aspect - his massages are sublime!
BUT! I'm losing my vacation to my exhaustion! I know the point of vacations is to relax (OR mega-stress yourself out from trying to do everything you want to do in the limited amount of time you have - but this isn't that kind. This is a nice week at home, playing with my family, and resting up), but really! The relaxing is making it nigh impossible to spend the time with my family that I would like to spend!
Alright, I resolve that tomorrow I shall stay awake the WHOLE day. No more zombie nappy nap time. I shall no longer be among the undead.
Which means, I have about 3 remaining seconds to go all zombie-freak, chomp my little brother in the stomach and tickle him off one of the couch cushions.
Bwah. ha. ha.
GRAHW MRAHW NANANAHR!!!!
Wow. He just kinda looked at me and said, "You realize you just smacked your head into my knee, right?"
Zombie fail.
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