History
I was having a discussion with a friend.
Discussions with friends – this one in particular – tend to turn out to be about peculiar things. The day before that, we were talking randomly about the relationship between literature and ‘kids these days’, as well as the affectation of modernist texts to write in a romantic style. But that’s another story.
This day we were sitting in a void deck. I was eating small egg white biscuits and she was drinking apple juice out of those 1 litre jugs from the supermarket. We both attempted to study like serious mugging students, then gave up and started talking instead.
She had a history essay to do with the question of whether it was really true that ‘the Soviet Union was doomed if it reformed and doomed if it didn’t.’ I had my history notes spread out in front of me anyway, so we started talking about how she might go about writing the essay.
Everything I’ve said so far is irrelevant to KI except for justifying the strange avenues by which my strange ideas and ideals are constructed. Most of them are by talking nonsense to people, this one in particular. No sooner had she remarked that history was nothing so much like an absurdist play than I remembered something completely random I had said earlier about aliens and breakfast.
Me: Remember just now, when I said that if aliens came down to earth – here – today, which would they be more confused by – porridge or you tiao?
Her: A hive mind of aliens would absolutely gape at the entirety of human history.
Her: That’s why I said history was like an absurdist play. All the characters know exactly what’s going on and everything makes perfect sense but the audience finds it… absurd. I mean, East Europe splits into two and fights over itself, and then America makes a bomb that could destroy the whole world and drops it into Japan of all places! It is entirely ridiculous!
Me: So – the small things!
Her: The small things are ridiculous as well.
(insert ramble here I can’t remember, sorry)
Me: Benefit of hindsight.
And then we went on about how Khrushchev might have accomplished what Gorbachev could not, because Gorbachev was a blind blundering incompetent when it came to economic policy. Then we rifled through what we knew of Soviet Union history and eventually blamed Stalin for everything. Stalin is good to blame: he was a blood-handed despot and he died at the most inconvenient time. If he had held on for decades like Fidel Castro Russia would have suffered a lot more but rather quite a few fiascos might have been prevented.
Me: But we can’t say for sure what would have happened, because it didn’t.
Her: But we can think of what might have.
(I show her a section in Terry Pratchett’s Darwin’s Watch on the ‘Trousers of Time’, the moment where a choice is made and destiny splits into two different paths that branch infinitely with every subsequent choice, and we talk briefly and insignificantly about counterfactual realities.)
Then, suddenly:
Her: Speaking of absurd plays.
Her: I cannot imagine anyone dedicating themseles to driving a bus for the rest of his life.
Her: The worst examples must be the ones that drive loop services! Round and round! All day!
Then she speaks what has been swimming in my mind.
Her: It’s even in an infinity sign! (drawing the closed loop in the air.) Round and round!
And that’s history in a nutshell. Yes even the bit about bus drivers.
[Thanks to the friend who remains unnamed for this post, unless she doesn’t mind being named, in which case I will edit this post]
Discussions with friends – this one in particular – tend to turn out to be about peculiar things. The day before that, we were talking randomly about the relationship between literature and ‘kids these days’, as well as the affectation of modernist texts to write in a romantic style. But that’s another story.
This day we were sitting in a void deck. I was eating small egg white biscuits and she was drinking apple juice out of those 1 litre jugs from the supermarket. We both attempted to study like serious mugging students, then gave up and started talking instead.
She had a history essay to do with the question of whether it was really true that ‘the Soviet Union was doomed if it reformed and doomed if it didn’t.’ I had my history notes spread out in front of me anyway, so we started talking about how she might go about writing the essay.
Everything I’ve said so far is irrelevant to KI except for justifying the strange avenues by which my strange ideas and ideals are constructed. Most of them are by talking nonsense to people, this one in particular. No sooner had she remarked that history was nothing so much like an absurdist play than I remembered something completely random I had said earlier about aliens and breakfast.
Me: Remember just now, when I said that if aliens came down to earth – here – today, which would they be more confused by – porridge or you tiao?
Her: A hive mind of aliens would absolutely gape at the entirety of human history.
Her: That’s why I said history was like an absurdist play. All the characters know exactly what’s going on and everything makes perfect sense but the audience finds it… absurd. I mean, East Europe splits into two and fights over itself, and then America makes a bomb that could destroy the whole world and drops it into Japan of all places! It is entirely ridiculous!
Me: So – the small things!
Her: The small things are ridiculous as well.
(insert ramble here I can’t remember, sorry)
Me: Benefit of hindsight.
And then we went on about how Khrushchev might have accomplished what Gorbachev could not, because Gorbachev was a blind blundering incompetent when it came to economic policy. Then we rifled through what we knew of Soviet Union history and eventually blamed Stalin for everything. Stalin is good to blame: he was a blood-handed despot and he died at the most inconvenient time. If he had held on for decades like Fidel Castro Russia would have suffered a lot more but rather quite a few fiascos might have been prevented.
Me: But we can’t say for sure what would have happened, because it didn’t.
Her: But we can think of what might have.
(I show her a section in Terry Pratchett’s Darwin’s Watch on the ‘Trousers of Time’, the moment where a choice is made and destiny splits into two different paths that branch infinitely with every subsequent choice, and we talk briefly and insignificantly about counterfactual realities.)
Then, suddenly:
Her: Speaking of absurd plays.
Her: I cannot imagine anyone dedicating themseles to driving a bus for the rest of his life.
Her: The worst examples must be the ones that drive loop services! Round and round! All day!
Then she speaks what has been swimming in my mind.
Her: It’s even in an infinity sign! (drawing the closed loop in the air.) Round and round!
And that’s history in a nutshell. Yes even the bit about bus drivers.
[Thanks to the friend who remains unnamed for this post, unless she doesn’t mind being named, in which case I will edit this post]
posted by the zen thing at 5:50 PM
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