[I have a friend who is an amazing writer but he tends to abandon his writing projects often. I wanted to save his writings for posterity and make them more widely available. The MonkeyPope Archives contain his collected works.]
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Better Off Red
Maybe I met Tangerine.
While I try to convince myself I’m a hardened military man incapable of dealing with the frailties and vagaries of the fairer sex and the compromises a relationship entails, I think the truth is…I want to find that thing to dote on, to wait for, to occupy my thoughts, to get me to do silly thing like buy her flowers, sweets, make her mix CDs, take weekend trips, watch romantic comedies. You know, all that shit men don’t do if there’s no thought of women.
I started my language refresher course and there’s this little meek creature, all pale skin freckled, with thick natural red bright red Irish red hair that makes me fair Scottish-Irish blood boil.
And really, she’s not all necessarily attractive. Subjectively cute for sure, but after she introduced herself, as we all had to, and mentioned she taught at an International school in New Zealand and in China and has a passion for traveling to out-of-the-way places, well, I was done for. Her story of taking a bus from Hong Kong to Fujo by bus without knowing a word of Chinese and how no one came near her cot because they were AFRAID of the pale woman with red hair, oh wow.
Now, I can’t help but steal unabashed glances at her. I gotta ask her out before I go. God, I love life. Irony is everywhere. A little more than a month before I leave, I meet a redhead who’s taught in China (and for the nitpicky, I know it’s not actually irony, so shu’ it).
31 and my nesting instincts are strong. Just a big fucking monkeyman, a biped looking for his warm cave and primitive she-thing to bed, a place to cook his kills and give his babymaker mastodon steaks. I simplify now I need a caveat — I want a challenging woman, one of intellect, of passion, of wanderlust great enough to match my own; a partner in all things. And she better like to play Scrabble or the shit’s over.
Addendum — I meant to post a few days ago a few stories related to Hurricane Katrina but played World of Warcraft instead. I didn’t want to think about it. But here we are, a few days past their relevance:
1) excellent article on press outrage over government complacency and poor response time and the issue of race.
2) The real storm has yet to come.
3) Fucking word. (But before you think I wholly endorse that article which slants towards Bush bashing, let me state that I believe the horrible aftermath of Hurricane Katrina is the result of poor leadership on a local and national scale; an example of government bureaucracy and an illustration of the problems the creation and ongoing integration of Homeland Security engenders; and finally, the tendency of most Americans to not be able to fend for themselves, of being so far removed from understanding how to meet the basic needs of survival outside the realm of modern society that they can do nothing but wait. And to be completely fair, even if all went perfectly, Hurricane Katrina woulda still been one helluvabitch.)
Addendum Dos — Can’t have a post without a bit of gaming news. Thankfully Nintendo has created the next gaming phenomenon, Nintendogs — sold more than 250,000 in less than a week and is well on its way to eclipsing its popularity in Japan. On Amazon.com, the three versions of the game are listed at #2, #3, and #9 in the Top Ten Bestselling Videogames list.
How does Nintendo do it? Tap into the subconscious of the gamer, of the consumer at large, and discern what he/she really wants? Wired speculates its appeal is an innate desire in all of us to be needed. Maybe its parents who want to teach their children ‘responsibility’ before getting a pet, or maybe lonely gamers who crave some sort of reciprocal attention for once, or forlorn former pet owners looking for a vicarious experience (and it’s for this reason, the author is considering enduring the public opprobrium of yelling at a portable gaming device to sit).
Ain’t no companion like a blue-eyed girl.