Thank you for being in my movie

This evening I went to Petsmart, Target, and Kroger, in that order. Not all that interesting really, happens all the time. But what is interesting, at least to me, is the number of people I saw in the Kroger who had also been at one of those two other locations. I counted at least six.

And it wasn't like, "Oh is that the same guy from Target?" No, I mean they were instantly recognizable; I had been in close proximity to them at some point. There's no telling the number of people I didn't even pass by who ended up there as well.

When I saw these people I wondered whether or not to acknowledge them. Maybe just a simple head nod, you know, "Hey you shop at Target, man. Me too. Nice." But is a shared shopping experience even something on which to base a momentary acquaintance? Probably not. Especially if they have kids, because that would look real creepy.

So what do you do? I mean, they saw me too, they know what's up. Some of them may have even told a trusted friend they saw some guy at Kroger who they'd also seen at Target. Then that friend would feign interest before turning the conversation back to themselves. Selfish prick. This means something!

Or maybe it doesn't mean anything. But it makes it feel like other people really exist, you know? They aren't just background music or filler for all of your daily experiences. That guy really needed a new blender and a cantaloupe. How crazy is that? Now he's making smoothies and washing his car and starting a new fruit-only diet and he's a real person.

I don't know, it's like when you're a kid and you see one of your teachers in public. They aren't supposed to exist outside of this narrowly defined region of your own life. That crossover is jarring. You have to accept that everyone else just kind of has their own thing, too, and that what you do in public, they do as well.

But what do they all do in private? That's where the real differences are. And as far as I know, what that is, is anyone's guess.

The Old West

New Telephone Game

Everybody knows the telephone game; you know, a group of people sit in a circle, one person whispers a phrase into someone's ear, the next person whispers into the ear of the next person and so on. When it comes back to the originator you compare what was said first to the final version, which has been distorted through mishearing along the way. Then they all laugh and laugh because somehow "I like bananas" has turned into "Stalin wasn't such a bad guy nacho hat".

Anyways, long story short, I had my laptop passed around to a roomful of people at work today. I was giving a presentation, sans projector, and had to show everybody what I'd been working on the old fashioned way. Like back in the time before projectors, yet somehow after laptops.

This got me to thinking, why not make a laptop telephone game? It goes like this:

1. First person browses to a popular/semi-popular website and passes the laptop to the next person

2. Next person clicks a link (internal or external) on the website

3. Continue passing and clicking until the laptop is returned to the owner

4. Owner attempts to guess the original website or, more likely, attempts to clear out all the porn links

In any event, it sounds like a pretty fun way to burn some time at work before a meeting, during a meeting, or even in some strange world where meetings don't exist.

System of Touch

A History of World Trade, Pt. 1

I've been reading this book about world history recently and I started wondering about how world trade began. I mean, did merchants just go sail to some other city, drop anchor and see what was available? How did they do that and not get killed every time?

And once you did eventually gain these prospective trade partners' trust, how did you ever determine the value of what was being traded?

You know, some Greek sailors pull up in Delhi with a boatload of olive oil. How does that work out?

"Hey we got all this oil here, made from olives, you want to trade something for it?"

"What's an olive?" the Indian merchant would rightly ask.

"I think it's some kind of fruit."

"Is it sweet?"

"Oh god no. It's terribly, almost offensively, bitter."

"Well what do you do with the oil?"

"Um, we like to dip our bread in it. Oh or we sometimes rub it on our bodies.

"I see."

I can't imagine this going well for either party, yet somehow it did. Maybe it was the body lubrication angle that eventually sold the world on olive oil, and cooking uses came later. Hopefully not at the same time.

But what could the Indians offer back to the Greeks? Obviously some quick-thinking Delhian was on the scene with a superb counter.

"Hey, you guys got any turmeric over there?"

"What's that?"

"It's a spice. Very popular 'round these parts."

"What's it taste like?"

"Very warming."

"Oh, you know, we kinda just got some ginger in. No thanks."

"Uh...it settles the stomach, very good for digestion."

"That's cool, but we're, like, swimming in fennel back home."

"It turns everything yellow."

"What's that you say?"

"Everything you add it to, turns it completely yellow."

"Give us all you have!"

And with that, the first successful Greek-Indian trade route was born. I'm sure I've glossed over some minor details like quantity and receipt signage, but I can only assume this is pretty much what happened.

Next time we'll explore the dangers of transporting open containers of ghee on a month-long trek across the Indian Ocean.

Pay no attention to those "Ain't this the Life's" below

Yeah so I'm actually not doing those anymore. I've switched to working on a hand-drawn comic that'll take over the name but, really, none of the content.

Why? I like the title and think it deserves a better medium. Now, I'm drawing the whole thing in pen in a steno notebook so the quality of image is going to be lowwww for the sake of image load times, but I think that kind of adds to it.

Anyways, I'm working on a delivery system for it since I want to always be on the front page. Looks like this area of the site will have to be actual fiction what comes out of my head :\

Ain't this the Life! No. 3