Writing

The evil twin conundrum

Evil twins are unhappy about the loss of half their potential. They never feel as evil as they could have been. This feeling of inadequacy makes them more evil, as the result is they try harder. As their plans get more intricate therein lies the flaw. The chance for failure grows exponentially. Begin again at the start of the paragraph. This is the evil twin conundrum.

http://davidraffin.com 

A haircut story

A few years ago I got a haircut at a home salon which advertised with a homemade sign planted at the side of the driveway.
I was sat in the chair and prepped. She started cutting. Within seconds she attempted small talk.
“So, you have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I said.
“Why not!” she said loudly. “Are you the gay?”

That is my friend Jodi‘s favorite story about me getting a haircut. But, in all fairness, it may be my only story about me getting a haircut.

(see also this story about a robot barber)

When I was but a lad.

An excerpt from Shards, WIP.

When I was but a lad. My cat killed a rat. The rat was left outside the door. I stepped outside the door, wearing no shoes, and ended up with the rat attached to the bottom of my foot. I hopped about on one foot. The other foot, with rat attached, hanging in the air. The rat, dead though it was, would not let go.

Obama meets with Bush – a meeting of the minds

Obama meets with Bush to get advice about how to proceed in Syria.

Obama: I don’t understand. I mean, you made it all seem so easy. How do I get approval for military action in Syria?

Bush: Your mistake is in asking for permission. If you want to bomb a country, you just do it.

Obama: I see. You’re saying “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.”

Bush: Exactly. (Pause) What’s forgiveness?

Love, Rejected

By David Raffin
My petition for love was denied by the central authority which handles such petitions.

It used to be that these standard rejections came by certified mail and were printed in ornate script on fine paper. Today they all come by text message. Still, they carry with them the same tradition. They are summary rejections. And they are form letters.

If someone were to travel forward from 100 years in the past they would recognize them immediately. “That is a standard rejection of a petition for love, sent by the bureau that handles such,” they would say. But then they would add, “Where is the ornate script and fine paper?” And they would look sad. Because 100 years ago we were a more tactile people appreciative of ornate flourishes. Even if there was, as today, a shortage of love.

A traveler from 500 years earlier would not recognize either rejection. Modern love had not yet been invented. It is a bittersweet fact.

At least in the electronic age one need not stand in the terrible lines at the petition office. As early as a decade ago people still had to queue up in line for hours to qualify for the chance at rejection. People did this, as today, for the slim hope that their petition would be granted.

The form rejection lists a reason. The reason is never revealed outright but instead a reference is made to a number. The number corresponds to a large reference which holds all the reasons rejection may be made. There are 100 volumes in question. The reasons for rejection are, some say, innumerable, but in reality they mostly break down to endless variations on three reasons which no one likes to discuss. Most people do not bother to look up the reference number listed in their rejection.

Mine was V.21.12.91. “Rejected for tendency to look up and contemplate facts and figures.”

We all know people whose petitions for love have been, or seem to have been, granted. It is commonly thought that some petitions are granted only to make the system seem viable. In fact, these successful petitions have a high failure rate. There is a complaint bureau. It is housed on the top floor of the tallest building in the world. There is no elevator. When you arrive at the single window you find it empty with a sign that says, “No Returns.”

There has always been a shortage of love and that is why a system of rationing has been set up. To preserve love by careful denial.
The truth is there has been no new love manufactured since 1992. All the love in the world is used. And second-hand love has a resale value which can only be classified as pitiful.

http://davidraffin.com

Obama’s old hat (the peace prize president)

(Originally written when the Swede’s gave Obama the Peace Prize. The Swedish sense of humor is odd. For instance, they let the Norwegians give out the Peace Prize. An indication of how seriously they take it.)

Obama’s old hat
by David Raffin

President Obama, honored with a Nobel peace prize while fighting two wars, appeared to accept his prize. His speech was in some ways a departure from the past but in others it was old hat.

The president stood behind the podium and the microphones, his demeanor professional and dignified. He paused for a moment taking in the occasion and the feel of the room. Then he leaned forward into the mic and spoke.

“My wife is so fat…” he began.
There were moments of awkward silence. Finally the still air was broken by a Swedish dignitary in the audience who shouted out, hesitantly at first but then becoming more bold as he spoke, “How fat is she?”
Obama, replying immediately to cue, replied, “She’s so fat, when she sits around the house she really sits around the house.”
There was another pause filled with silence.

Obama continued, “Thank you Ladies and Germs.” The crowd sat quietly staring at him.
“Seriously though, it’s an honor to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. I flew here from Washington DC, and boy are my arms tired.”
The silence was broken by a rimshot from offstage.
There were scattered coughs and throat clearings.

One Swedish diplomat turned to another and whispered, “I warned you! The U.S. hasn’t refreshed their joke book in years!”

 http://davidraffin.com