The High Elf Hunter

In Dungeon Crawl Stone Soup, no race is better at the long sword or the bow than the High Elf. Therefore, the High Elf is well-advised to specialize in both of these weapons. Although the Centaur enjoys equal aptitude at Bows, the High Elf can benefit from racial aptitude when using an elf bow combined with elf ammunition. Therefore, a High Elf has the potential to inflict greater damage with the bow than any other race.

I chose to be a Hunter for the simple reason that I've never played one before. In fact, I seldom use missile weapons in any of my race/class combinations, preferring melee or magic. Yet missile weapons are scattered throughout the dungeon, and an entire class, the Hunter, is built around missiles. It was high time for me to see what all the fuss was about missile weapons.



Here is my character getting ready to plunder a Ziggurat, a most dangerous endeavor, because therein lurk named Demon Lords from Pandemonium and the other nether regions. Powerful demons that can summon minions are quite dangerous for a Hunter who lacks an amulet of warding or an Abjuration spell. The minions serve to block the range of the Hunter's bow. The hunter becomes encircled by these ever-multiplying minions. Meanwhile, from a safe distance, the summoner smites the hunter from afar even unto death. I died several times in this manner, until I resolved to avoid the Ziggurat. There isn't any point in plundering the Ziggurat, anyway, unless you need magic items. My character has quite enough magic items, as you can see:



Once he has gathered strength and obtained resistance to confusion and other elven magic, it is essential for any elven Hunter to plunder the Elven Halls in order to secure the very best elven armour, bow, and long sword. Most desirable of all for the elven Hunter is the elven longbow. As for swords, the elven scimitar is best for the High Elf, because it inflicts the most damage.

The elven longbow is no joke. It inflicts injuries equivalent to the scimitar, and often slays powerful monsters after just a few, or only one arrow. As long as hordes of summoned minions aren't approaching, a Hunter has an easy time picking off enemies from a distance, no matter how powerful they may be. When they get too close, one can always Blink away--or simply continue firing the bow.

Each time an arrow is fired, there is a chance it will be destroyed. Therefore, conserve elven ammunition for powerful monsters. With weaker monsters, fire your non-elven ammunition. Ideally, you should conserve enough elven arrows to see you through the Realm of Zot. Carrying all this luggage does severely limit the amount of other goodies one can carry, especially if you emphasize Dexterity over Strength. I was not sure just how many elven arrows I needed to last the game, so I tried to carry as much as possible. Elven arrows represent yet another reason to plunder the Elven Halls.

Although there may be better armours to be had, for an elf, elven chain mail is pretty darn good. The only armour I might consider substituting for it is gold dragon armour, but that is quite a heavy burden for an elven hunter that stockpiles elven arrows. There is nothing better for the High Elf hunter than elven arrows. I discard wands in favor of arrows, because the High Elf is much better at Bows than Evocations, and the elven longbow is more effective than most wands.

Gold dragon armour is better suited for exceptionally strong characters such as Minotaurs. Besides, in order to cast spells while heavily armoured, a character needs to acquire a very high Armour skill, and that's a tall order for a High Elf. I learned Armour to a certain level, but then switched to light elven chain, because I wanted to cast spells of Enchantment.

I probably erred in choosing a medium-sized shield, because it does inhibit the bow, but the shield in question proved irresistible. I'm a sucker for additional capabilities like Teleport and See Invisible. However, better might have been a heavily enchanted Elven buckler. Elves are not particularly gifted at Shields, but do better at Dodging.



I haven't reached the end of the game with this character yet. I may even delete it, because it has a huge weakness when it comes to Summoners, and the deeper levels are full of Summoners of various stripes. Bows just can't beat a Summoner, I'm afraid. A Hunter needs to have some kind of answer for the Summoner problem--an Amulet of Warding would be the simplest solution, although I'd miss my "Guejoh" with its +3 AC and +4 Dex.

Devices of the Future

In the near future, MemCams the size of an ant will be implanted into the affluent, recording the events of their lives for posterity. In this way, the wealthy will be able to replay their most cherished memories and also provide inerrant testimony to misdeeds great and small. The MemCam may be toggled on and off by touch, so that certain moments can remain temporal. Spies and undercover detectives will employ this device, which will be positioned in the epidermis around either one eye or both for superior depth perception. Some may opt for a MemCam resembling a sapphire, ruby or emerald, planted in the forehead in the way of the Hindu. As the technology matures, MemCams will become accessible to the poor as well. The energy source will initially be a battery, until a method is discovered to make MemCams organic, at which point they can receive energy from the hosts' blood vessels.

(I discovered recently that my idea is not new.)

The great discoveries of the future (if there is to be a future for our violent race) will be in the area of biology. Silicon is on the way to obsolescence. Most devices of the future will be both organic and living, because life forms are self-sustaining, self-replicating, more adaptable, and more capable.

The future returns to the horse and abandons the car. "Horse" in this instance must be understood to encompass any large living organism designed and bred by humans or their successors. There will not be a distinction between car and house anymore. Houses will be born, not built, and need not be stationary, but may be the primary means of transportation, such that when one travels, one travels with everything one owns, leaving nothing behind.

These innovations may be the fruit of H. Sapiens--or of another species, either extraterrestrial or of Earth.

H. Sapiens, if it destroys itself, may be succeeded by new breeds, because there is time left, no matter what happens to us. The Sun will not diminish for many millions of years, and in that time, a new intelligent species could evolve either independently of our own or derived from us but different enough to constitute a new species.

H. Sapiens is the tyrant of the world, not its protector. We bring death to the other life forms on Earth--almost nothing except for death. When we are gone, other lines may prosper and may even develop a greater consciousness and awareness than our own species.

The diminishing of the ozone layer and nuclear war, dooms for us, are not without benefit for the other creatures upon Earth. Either event increases the rate of mutation, accelerating the process of evolution, leading to new species. This has happened before, from meteor impacts that kicked up radioactive dust into Earth's atmosphere.

Is the Past Better than the Future?

Reading history gives a poor impression of H. Sapiens, due to the endless cycle of wars, injustices, slavery, and corruption. Have we progressed that much since times past? Some would say yes, just because today we have more technology.

Right now the most powerful country in the world is bogged down in two expensive and pointless wars in which we stand to gain exactly zero dollars and zero cents. Meanwhile, the government uses its money assisting the rich so that they can fail once again in their ill-conceived business endeavors. The corporations receiving government money today will lose it tomorrow, but tomorrow there may not be a bailout. Debt cannot be increased forever. Sooner or later, debt must be paid. The stage is set for another Great Depression.

A simple discussion about health care has devolved into an acrimonious battle in Washington, D.C. People would prefer their neighbors die, rather then receive any medical assistance. People don't know their neighbors and don't want to know their neighbors. Is this a country, or is it a collection of selfish individuals who want to dominate others? People are willing to suffer any inconvenience, just so long as they perceive that other people suffer more than they do.

The U.S. is fast becoming a police state, with the largest prison population in the entire world. Over two million citizens are in prison, mostly for drug-related offenses. To incarcerate a person, any amount--millions--will be paid. But people are less enthusiastic about the idea of healing people from their illnesses and making them better. Also, less money is being spent on education than on incarceration. People are ruled by hatred, fear, and greed. These are the three primary emotions that rule many minds. To see others suffer is a consolation, but to see the happiness of others inspires envy. Not everyone is this way, but enough are to make FOX News the most popular news channel on television.

Global warming continues unchecked, which means that much of the nation's wealth, concentrated along her coastlines, will be ceded to the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. The fish will be impressed with the skyscrapers we have constructed. Nuclear war has only been delayed for a few generations. It too is coming, to deal with those who live further inland and in mountainous regions.

I think it is fair to say that, instead of having improved over the lot of the prehistoric Cave Man, modern man has made his world worse and imperiled his very existence. Modern man finds relief from his otherwise boring existence by indulging in hatred and warfare. Millions sit at home fantasizing over the blood and guts that have been spilled in faraway places. They read casualty reports and are satisfied when the other side has lost more lives than their side. They hate everybody that isn't a member of their particular tribe or their particular church and are distressed whenever other tribes get too uppity.

In the end, large-scale nuclear war is inevitable, in order to resolve the many hatreds that have been cultivated. People would prefer to die, just so long as their enemies die as well. At least they "won."

H. Sapiens has not had time to evolve sufficient resistance to the high levels of radioactivity that will be released by the plutonium-based munitions. The only question is whether a few souls may survive in the remote regions of the world, far away from the blast sites. If so, I hope that the few survivors were born without the trait for selfish hatred that has marked the human race. Perhaps they can begin to breed a new race, a better one, more apt with words and ideas than with the club.

My Spriggan Enchanter

My longtime fave, Beserkers, have a pretty easy life, all things considered, even though the latest Beta trims their power. I abandoned my last Demonspawn Beserker due to boredom.

For a change of pace, I adopted what seems like the opposite of a Beserker, a Spriggan Enchanter, one of the physically weakest races. There is much to love about Spriggans, although they are neither strong nor robust in hit points. Their inability to wear most forms of armour dissuades most players from even considering a feeble Spriggan.

Bear in mind, however, that no race is better at Dodging, which does compensate for lack of armour. Also, a Spriggan controls the terms of battle. If a battle is not going their way, Spriggans run away. They can outrun almost any monster in the game, including centaurs, and their competence in Translocations permits them to blink or teleport with comparative ease, once they have learned the required spells. Furthermore, a Spriggan grows so adept at stealth that he need not engage in prolonged melee with most monsters. With high competence in stealth and stabbing, a Spriggan can slay with just one swing of the sabre a Stone Giant. . .



or a Fire Giant. . .



or a Frost Giant. . .



Or a Golden Dragon. . .



or even, wonder of wonders, an Orb of Fire. . .



As you can see, Stabbing is nothing to sneeze at. The short sword may seem puny, but in the hands of an assassin, there is no better weapon. You might think that intelligent monsters are more resistant to surprise, but I even slew Boris the Archlich with a stab.

The Spriggan gets by on less food than other races, which means it can travel light, an important advantage for such a physically weak race. The ability to See Invisible means that unseen horrors are no longer a challenge, and the Elven Halls may be pillaged sooner.

Learn only those schools of magic that are easy for your chosen race. Avoid other schools in order to conserve XP. It makes little sense for a Spriggan to fool around with Conjurations, when it is far more competent in Enchantments. Better to let the XP trickle down into abilities such as Dodging, Stealth, and Stabbing. In fact, I recommend turning off training in Short Blades and Spellcasting and avoiding the use of missile weapons in order to master the critical assassin skills. No skills are more advantageous to the Spriggan than Dodging, Stealth and Stabbing.

My Spriggan learned just the following spells:



Note that I didn't attempt to get deep into elemental magic, conjurations or necromancy. That would be a waste, next to the potential of being a better Dodger.

And as for his thieving skills, he was quite the ninja. . .



Spriggans must conserve any vegetative food that they encounter, because they cannot eat meat. The biggest danger a young Spriggan faces is starvation. Your primary goal as a young Spriggan is to locate and plunder the Hive or find some other large supply of vegetative food. In fact, you must hurry about it, or you may die of hunger. Don't dally in the lower levels, but keep pressing on. Avoid activities such as spellcasting that cause hunger. Sometimes it is wise to leave regions of a level unexplored, in order to descend deeper into the dungeon in hopes of locating the all-important Hive--or a food shop.

Do not worship Feawn if you are a Spriggan. Her powers require vegetative food as a precursor. She is better suited for Mummies, who need never eat, or higher level characters that have already plundered the Hive. I renounced her early on, switching to Vehumet, who is more useful to a Spriggan spellcaster. Feawn held a grudge almost to the very end of the game, blasting my character with ice and ambushing my character with gangs of plants.

My Spriggan died several times, because I was accustomed to heavily armoured beserkers that can withstand massive damage in combat. With a Spriggan, if your hit points fall much below forty in the lower regions of the dungeon, then it is time to fly. A single well-aimed blow from a large monster can destroy a lightly armoured Spriggan. Dodging is never a sure thing and does not reduce damage, but only seeks to avoid it. A Spriggan must know when to run and when to be brave.

In the end, with moderate assistance from regen.bat, this Spriggan knew Victory. . .

I Mowed the Blog

The blog had gotten a bit overgrown, so I took the lawnmower to it the other day. About half the politics category has been weed-wacked. Other categories have been decimated as well, although not as much.

I have an uneasy relationship with politics. On the one hand, I have followed world news since the time I was small, cultivating opinions on just about every issue under the sun. Some people believe they should not be opinionated, but should be open-minded about everything. This is a mistake. Opinions are not bad, because they serve as a guidepost in life, helping to navigate around new issues as they come along. If you don't know what you like, you will waste too much time in testing.

On the other hand, I don't like the pettiness, bickering and tribalism inherent in politics. Too often, I suspect that the majority of liberals and conservatives are the same sort of people, only they belong to different tribes. Sometimes, it is mindless allegiance to the tribe that causes people to adopt certain positions. Politics is a slippery slope, and if one does not exercise caution, one could devolve into an ogress like Ann Coulter.

Dawkins in "The Week"

I read an article in "The Week" this month about Richard Dawkins. The writer was not a fan. He alluded to the "evidence" for evolution, putting evidence in quotes, as though it were no such thing, but mere hearsay. Then he quoted some kind of survey that showed more people were starting to doubt whether evolution were so.

Someone may want to write "The Week" and inform them that evolution is the basic principle underpinning all of the life sciences. They have not gotten the memo yet.

It's a Party in the U.S.A.

This YouTube vid is about ninety-nine flavors of Awesome. I don't know why, but I've watched it about the same number of times.

Advice for News Junkies

If you are addicted to reading and absorbing the daily world news, it may be helpful to employ the following technique. Before reading, make a mental note, prefacing each headline with the phrase, "Although the rest of the world was productive, harmonious, and good, we found the following unusual exception:", because the headline almost certainly contains bad news. I believe the media has a philosophy. News is not news unless it is bad. Bad news is, however, the exception, not the rule.

This technique should help counteract the overall negative impression of the world that is put forth by the media. The world is not so bad, dear old thing that she is. The common perception of the world is in need of repair. If you pause to consider the advantages, unique to our knowledge, of Earth, and of H. Sapiens, then the world is a grand and blissful place, akin to Heaven. Think upon the lot of the amoeba that know nothing save food and death. We perceive and sometimes understand, and that is all good.

The Goal is Happiness

I think it is important for people to have the proper goal in life. Happiness is the proper goal. If your end is something else, like prestige, then that is a shaky foundation on which to build a life.

Forget popularity. Forget money and prestige. These are important, yes, but they are not the ultimate goal in life. There are rich people in the world--millionaires--that commit suicide because of a downturn in their fortunes. Ludicrous!

I knew of a man who was a successful business owner. He was the envy of many, although he also had many enemies, because he was hot-tempered and full of anger towards others, especially the ones closest to him. One day, he placed a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. I believe he did this because money, prestige, and power do not satisfy. What he wanted more than anything else in this world was to love others and to be loved, but he could not have this because of his anger, which tended to burn the bridges to the people that he loved most in this world. He never solved this problem. Despairing of a solution, he ended his life.

If he had known me and was willing to listen to me, then I would have told him to stop drinking altogether first of all. Nothing can change without that first step. Alcohol is toxic to the human brain and can influence nonviolent people to behave in a violent manner. But eliminating alcohol is not enough. More steps must follow afterward. Don't be greedy, don't be mean, don't harangue your employees, don't smash and destroy the equipment in your business. He once destroyed a cash register with a hammer because he could not understand how to operate it. A human being should always bear in mind that he is a human being, not an ape. What makes us special is our knack for patience, for cunning, for elegant solutions.

The reason people like him will not listen to people like me is pride. They think they are better than others. Pride is the barrier that seals them in their self-made dungeon, from which there is no escape. I remember a friend of mine who was miserable, completely down, agitated, and unbearable to be around. After asking a few questions, I knew why. He was accustomed to drinking several cups of coffee a day. It was the weekend, and as of mid-day Saturday he had not any coffee or tea in over twenty-four hours. I suggested that he drink some, but he bristled. He was no drug addict! It is funny that people refuse to recognize their addictions. Of course, he was suffering from classic caffeine withdrawal, but he persisted with his denials due to pride. Later, in private, he had his coffee and all of the agitation disappeared. He thought he was saving face by denying the problem to me.

If you're not happy, find out why. That's the key. Life is a work in progress, an engineering problem, if you will. Reduce that which makes you unhappy. Increase that which makes you happy. Some things cause happiness only on a temporary basis, but in the long run, cause misery. These things too must be avoided. Wisdom is that superb quality about a person that tends to promote happiness, both in one's self and in those around him for the long run.

Good relations with others is essential. However, some people are incompatible with others. Not all personality types can coexist. There are sadistic types in the world. Avoid these types, if you can. Treat them as anathema, because they will attempt to drain all the joy out of those around them, including you. The people you want for your friends are those that desire peace and harmony, with an avid curiosity for intellectual matters and an eagerness to learn new things. I once had to walk away from a lucrative job in order to free myself from psychic vampires that were determined to be unhappy, and moreover were determined to make those around them unhappy as well. It is not worth wasting the flower of life in a desolate environment.

The world has two general types of people, those that seek happiness, and those that seek pain and suffering. Thanatos is Sigmund Freud's explanation for the latter sort, who adhere to the dark side of human nature. Thanatos does have certain peculiar advantages, which is why it has persisted within our species since time immemorial, but it is not aligned with the good and the right, and is not the proper path to take. Associating with fools, one is liable to become as they are. Avoid fools, and seek out the wise, if you place a value upon virtue. Virtue is that goodness which not only makes one's self happy, but makes others happy as well, and makes the world a better place to live in. This is a solid foundation on which to build a life.

The Mummy

One night I was trying to sleep once again when I heard a scratching at my window. I got a rusty butter knife and crept around the back to see what sort of infernal creature was pestering me this time.

It was an individual wrapped from head to toe with white bandages, or what most people would call a Mummy. It turned in surprise and moaned upon seeing me.

I said, "You know, I don't get many mummies around here. Mostly it's just the stray vampire or demon. Aren't you a little out of time and place? They stopped manufacturing mummies a long time ago."

The Mummy tilted his head, as if considering, and said, "Ten thousand apologies. You are correct, I am lost and trying to get home. If you don't mind, point me in the direction of Egypt, please."

I said, "That's a tough one. I know the general direction, but a slight variance in the angle of my finger could send you to South Africa, rather than Egypt. Besides, there is the small matter of the Atlantic Ocean. Not a good thing for your bandages."

The Mummy slumped its shoulders. "I just want to go home." It sounded pitiful.

I walked up next to it and put my arm around its neck in consolation, although I regretted this, because the Mummy had a bad case of body odor. I said, "Look, nowadays people just use Google Maps. You need to get on the Internet. But I can't let you inside my house. I don't mean to be blunt, but I don't know any other way to put this. . . frankly, you smell bad, and your looks don't favor you either. Go to Wal-Mart and buy yourself some clothes and deodorant. So many freaks go to Wal-Mart at night, they won't notice one more freak like you. Do you have any money?"

The Mummy shook its head sadly.

"What? Mummies always carry a little treasure stashed on their person somewhere. That's one of the good things about Mummies. Unwrap your bandages and look for gold amulets or scarabs. That will do the trick. I think they even have a jewelry store in Wal-Mart that buys scrap gold. Now I have to go. It's late, and humans like to sleep at night."

The Mummy bowed low, almost touching the ground. "A thousand blessings upon your house."

"Don't mention it. Wal-Mart is that way, by the way." I pointed to where I imagined it must be. Whether he (or she) ever made it, I have no idea.

The Mid-Life Crisis

I never imagined there was such a thing as a mid-life crisis. I think it is a product of modern civilization. Many of us are stuck in dead-end jobs and wonder whatever happened to our youthful ambition to make a mark in the world. We look ahead to the future and it may not seem as exciting as the stories that we consume on television and in the movies. We crave adventure, possibly even a romantic adventure. This is where folly begins. As for me, I became involved with a series of women, although at the time I had a long-term relationship with a man. I am not defending this conduct, only explaining a strange phenomena.

My motive was this. I was curious and wondered if a relationship could work between a woman and me, because I had never ruled it out with any certainty in the past. The concept remained a question mark to me. If I didn't try heterosexuality, how did I know it wouldn't work out? If heterosexuality worked for me, then my life would become easier in many ways, especially when it came to advancement out at work--politically, it is prudent. I could share my personal life with my conservative coworkers and conservative bosses if I were straight. There would be no conflict between the religions of the world and my personal life. Also, my parents would be overjoyed, not because they were homophobes, but because the prospect of grandchildren would be the answer to their deepest wishes. I was sure that my mother would like to have grandchildren. If I do not breed, then our family's line ends with me. I thought our genes should be transferred to the next generation, because the world would be a sorrier place without us. All of this may be true or it may not. It doesn't matter to me anymore, although it seemed to matter at the time.

I met the first lady in the park. We passed each other many times before she gathered up the courage to speak with me. I was in good shape and did not look all that bad, or so I have been told, and I wore gold on my person and made good money in my professional career. She was a liberated and intelligent divorcee in her late-thirties, and had one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard. She sounded like an angel. Her appearance was not unlike an angel either, and when we were together, men would eye me with envy and wish to be in my place. When we went out to restaurants, any male of her acquaintance--and there were many--would go out of their way to say hello to her and engage her in conversation.

My relations with her went well in the beginning, because we shared many interests and she liked to confide in me about various issues. She said that I gave good advice, so there's an indirect recommendation for my blog. Unlike some people, I don't repeat confidences that are made, and all her secrets stayed safe with me and will always be safe.

Of course I had to divulge my secret at the earliest opportunity, even before our first date, because it would have been base to do otherwise. I told her I had a live-in boyfriend. This seems humorous, like the plot of a sitcom, now that I think about it. I am not sure how I ever thought a love triangle could work. This is what people mean when they talk about a mid-life crisis. She took the news with equilibrium and thanked me for telling her. She even consented to date me, because she was not sure just how serious my other relationship was. I think she wondered whether it was just a temporary thing, or whether I was trying to leave the relationship (I wasn't). Every kind of suspicion occurred to her after my disclosure, and relations deteriorated between us, mostly on her side. All that happened after that was foreseeable. After two or three dates, she declined to go out with me any more. I think she made the right decision for both of us. We remained on good terms, speaking terms at least. She married another man, and I wished her the best.

Another woman, a recent college graduate, I met through friends, which was worse, because our friends found out about it. Some cared, some didn't, but I stayed silent on the matter, speaking of it to no one. I asked her out on a date, and she, much surprised, accepted. She knew all about my boyfriend, precluding the need for an awkward disclosure. After a few days of reflection, she changed her mind, and told me that we should not get involved. Looking back, I have been most fortunate in selecting only good women, ones with high standards of conduct. With another sort, I might have gotten in over my head, at least in that vulnerable period of time.

After those two experiences, I looked up an old girlfriend from college that I had dated over ten years ago. She was displeased at my contacting her, and told me she didn't want to hear from me. She was an out lesbian now, not the bisexual young woman that I had known. She had no use for old boyfriends.

Next I joined an online matchmaker service and met with three or four young, attractive women, but in each case, things did not work out. For one thing, they were much inferior to my boyfriend. In fact, none of the women lit a candle to him. They did not have his intelligence, his manners, his talent, or his looks. This left me with insufficient motivation. A strong desire on the part of the man is necessary, particularly when wooing medium-to-high caste women. Women look for this spark of energy. I did not have enough desire to succeed.

In the end, I gave up, and lived happily ever after. I decided to accept being just what I am, which is gay and married. I am glad I don't have to work at trying to be something else. It is very hard work trying to be something else, and I have better things to do with my time, such as live my life the way that I want to live it.

These little affairs, sexless though they may have been, were unfair to my partner, and I am lucky he stayed around. He adopted a tolerant attitude, even going so far as to help me pick out clothes on a date. I think he foresaw that these dates would amount to nothing. They were just the experiments of a confused guy going through a mid-life crisis. I remained committed to him and had in mind a scenario where he would remain an integral part of my life in a kind of extended family of three, rather than two. Some people refer to this scenario as polyamory, but I was not even aware of the term at the time.

My plans were bunkum, but when you are in the middle of things, anything seems possible. The reason it could never work is that both he and I are wired for monogamy. I get jealous whenever he neglects me in favor of another. So it was with him as well. He has told me that I hurt his feelings with these affairs, even though there was no sex involved. It represented my greatest lapse in judgment. I think it was a case of wanting to conform to society's expectations and wanting to become perfect in every way and do everything that others have done, including raising a family. But that is not always in the cards. We must play the hand we're dealt. Otherwise, the game isn't any fun. It is not the destiny of everyone to have a family, to be like all the others. I required more time to accept this due to ambition, a sense that I could succeed where others have failed, as I have in other situations. Beware of pride.

Sleepers

Sleeping on the job was a minor epidemic at my last workplace, especially about an hour after lunch. I worked in a cubicle world just like the cartoon strip "Dilbert". Each section of the cubicle maze was a fiefdom under the control of a count or countess. Morning was safe, but after lunch, I could usually depend on catching somebody sleeping, if I happened to walk around without making too much noise. I never disturbed them, unless I needed something right that instant, in which case I'd knock on the cubicle wall or clear my throat to wake them up, without drawing attention to the fact that they were goldbricking. Usually, these little naps were of short duration, because folks were afraid of getting caught, just as I was.

I was guilty of dozing off several times each year. If I caught myself doing it, which was by no means certain, I would get up and walk around to fight off the drowsiness. I was loathe to get caught sleeping by a boss. That makes the worst impression possible. I learned to avoid heavy carbohydrate meals during lunch and to tank up on strong coffee throughout the day. Also, I found that exercise after work kept me in better overall condition and gave me greater resistance to daytime snoozing. But my golden secret was caffeine. If it were not for coffee and tea, I do not believe modern civilization could have evolved. Too many office workers would fall asleep on the job. It can happen to the best of us. I knew many hard working individuals that had little reservation about working overtime, but they too succumbed to the Sandman. It even became a running joke. If there were ever a loud noise in the office, some wiseacre would say, "That woke me up!" and then another would chime in, "Me too."

In the summer, the company cranked the air conditioning down low just to keep all of their folks awake. I am talking about 68 to 72 Farenheit. This is not a comfortable temperature for office workers that do nothing but sit in a chair for four to five hours at a stretch. However, it is logical and reasonable, because after all they are paying for conscious employees, not unconscious ones. I am not sure how else sleeping could be reduced, other than electrified seats that deliver a shock when the sitter dozes. Many wore sweaters to keep warm. As for me, I wore a tee shirt under my long-sleeved shirt and that sufficed. When the air conditioning broke, as sometimes happened, we were placed in the strange position of missing it, because the temperature could climb into the nineties, even with portable fans blowing out of the department and into the hallway. The result was that it was either too hot or too cold most of the time. However, if you wore your clothes in layers, you could adjust as needed, unless it got too hot.

The Cat

I've always owned a cat, but the destiny of a human is to outlive his cat, which means I've had many. My current cat, after a campaign of complaining, managed to perch himself on my lap even as I type this. He is what I call an affectionate type of cat, which is the best kind of cat to have. He looks to me as an adoptive parent, although he's old enough not to go clawing for teats, for which I'm thankful.

The first secret to having a good cat is picking the right one from the animal shelter, the one that likes humans to begin with, and isn't too shy. Some cats are cat-racists who prefer to stay by themselves or by other cats all day. They are by nature not fond of human company. I don't want a rambunctious cat either, one that is going to tear up the upholstery. I just want a smart, friendly extrovert. This is my ideal. However, to each his own. Some people may prefer a different type of cat.

People think that the first priority of a cat is food, however, when I feed the two cats I own, one cat will stand around watching me and craving attention until I leave the room, whereas the other cat dives into the food.

My policy is to have an all-day kitty buffet, where I fill a large bowl. The bowl is placed in the garage upon a table, so that it has some protection against ants and insects. If it is ever empty, I fill it. The cats can eat as much as they like. After all, I enjoy an all-day human buffet. My cat and I both follow the same rule. When hungry, eat.

You may be able to keep your cat outdoors, but be mindful of the many cat diseases raging out in the world. I buried my last cat, an outdoor cat who succumbed to feline HIV and leukemia contracted from neighbors' cats. If in your location you have many cats wandering through your yard, then it may not be safe to let your cat outdoors. Wandering cats tend to fight, and fights bring infection. Worse are cars. I remember driving to work one day when I spotted one of my cats dead on the road. I suspect that some drivers go out of their way to kill a cat, or at least don't bother braking. There is not a high enough premium put upon life in the world today. Some guys think that it makes them more of a man if they kill an animal. You may not know how risky your location is until you bury a cat.

Cats are easy to train to use a litter box. That is the one area where they learn with rapidity. When starting potty-training, you can teach your cat not to mess outside the box by showing the cat the mess, saying "No" in a loud voice, and holding it while you clean the mess up. It should only be necessary to do this once or twice, at the most. Anymore, and you must be doing something wrong; making the cat think that he is being rewarded, for instance.

If, after a successful career in using the litter box, a cat stops using it and messes in the wrong place, then that is a sign of stress. You should not punish the cat, but instead address what is wrong with it. The most common problem is a litter box that is overfull. Cats do have standards. If the litter box is too nasty, they will not want to enter it. There is also the case of indigestion. If the food is making the cat sick, switch brands. Compost the bad food in the backyard. It is better to pay a little extra on cat food, rather than have a sick cat. I like the major brands over the cheapo brands which I have found make my cat sick to his stomach. I am not sure what they are putting in those cat foods, but some of the brands smell bad even before digestion.

Keep a collar on the cat at all times with a metal tag engraved with the cat's name and address, for the event when the cat escapes to the outside, which will happen, because the cat is faster and stealthier than you are. You will open the door many times, and the cat will be watching and waiting for his chance of escape each time. Nature calls him to explore the outdoors, although there are hazards waiting for the cat outside. The best and the cheapest collars and engraved tags can be found on E-bay. They are so cheap, it is ridiculous, and I don't see how the sellers make a profit. I prefer my cat's collar to be studded with gemstones or rhinestones to denote high prestige, a valued pet beloved by its owner. This gives it some protection against maltreatment, should he come into contact with strange humans. Not all humans agree that pets deserve to be treated well. There are angry people in the world that want to take out their anger on an animal. At least with the identifying tag, notice is served that a human protector may be displeased by any mistreatment. A cat with no collar and no identifying information may wind up in the animal shelter, and from there, the grave.

Flea collars don't work well, in my experience. They reduce, but do not eliminate fleas. To address the flea problem, I bought the excellent brand-name flea-killers that protect for thirty to forty days at a time. Four consecutive months of usage may suffice to protect the cat year-round, if kept indoors in a small house. I stop the treatment in winter, and resume in the Spring. This is both to save money and reduce the cat's exposure to whatever chemicals are in the insecticide.

It is important to treat the cat like a valued member of the family, if you want to have an affectionate and vibrant creature. Let it play, let it wander, let it explore. Encourage play with toys. A cat can benefit from having at least one cat companion, another cat to play with and be pals with. My cat has his brother for company. The brother is more of a reclusive type, although he can be affectionate in his own way and if the mood strikes him. They cooperate to a surprising extent. However, the brother is fonder of my partner than me. Cats do have their preferences. One cat prefers my partner, whereas the other cat prefers me. So we each have our own cat.

Listen to your cat, because it does have thoughts that it wishes to share. Lacking the power of the human voice, a cat requires a receptive audience in order to communicate. This means you must watch its facial expression and body language and listen to any sounds it makes to learn its will. In time, you may become adept at reading your cat.

The Palm Reader

I had my palm read once in my life, at thirteen. The reader was a bright girl that I loved just because she was bright. She was also free and open, or at least, more so than anyone else in our school. The other girls loved having their palms read, but not so with the boys, who dismissed her palm-reading as medieval and "just for the girls." They didn't see what I saw. They were looking at her chest, but I was looking at her soul. I was the first boy who volunteered, no, insisted that she read my palm.

She knew I was a skeptic, because I was never shy about my opinions. She scolded me for my doubts and defended palmistry with favorable anecdotes selected from history. I retaliated with Science, my favorite standby, but she was having none of it. This surprised me a great deal, because I thought she was smarter than me, and expected her to be at least as scientific as I was. She asserted there was no conflict between palmistry and science. She had me promise not to laugh, but to treat the reading with the dignity and gravity that it deserved. I was scolded if I so much as smiled. She was afraid of embarrassment, I think. I swore upon my honor not to laugh, and I kept my word.

The touch of her hand was electric, and I think the hand-holding lured the other boys over, curiosity winning over prejudice. But I was the first, the trend-setter. As she studied the lines, I asked many questions about palmistry, curious about what had ensnared such an intelligent person. She told me the names of the lines: the heart line, the head line, the life line, the girdle of Venus, and several planets and other nonsense like that. She noted they were only indicators, a guide through which she performed her art. I am to this day unsure what her precise methodology was, and I'm afraid she did not know how to explain it. She admitted that it was a bit of a mystery.

She told me that I would have many lovers in my lifetime, and this proved true over time, but it is also true of many other people. She told me I would eventually find a lifelong "partner," but she never disclosed the gender. So I asked her--"surely it's a woman?" She said she didn't know, but I think she knew more than she cared to say aloud. She did not tell me anything that a sober observer couldn't have guessed from ten minutes' acquaintance with me. So I remained unpersuaded, both then and now, though her unambitious predictions have proven true.

Later in life, she built a successful business around palmistry. Women go to her for counseling, therapy, and guidance. I am sure they wouldn't pay her if they didn't feel they received something of value in exchange for their money. My guess is that she succeeds because of her charisma, insight, cunning, and personal magnetism. It would be a mistake to dismiss her based upon her chosen profession, although I have been tempted. I don't approve of witchcraft, because it seems like a throwback to the superstitious past. On the one hand, I wonder whether she preys upon the gullible. On the other hand, I fail to recall her ever doing evil in the time that we were acquainted. Just the opposite. She was good, to my recollection, and never harmed another person, save for the harm that cannot be prevented, such as when a boy fell in love with her, and the love was unrequited.

Now my take on palmistry is as follows. I think some people are prescient. It is possible to perceive many things at a glance and divine many things based upon scant evidence. I have done this, and so have you in all likelihood. Sometimes I wonder about that. It is a strange and curious power, I will grant. To the best of my knowledge, this power is not based in magic, but in the brain. I have watched experts at chess calculate moves faster than would seem possible by a human being. They are seeing into the future as well, often with the faintest of clues to guide them. So it is with the good palmist, the one who has the power to tell you your future. Do not underestimate the agility of the human brain. Much that seems like magic is the natural and scientific product of this wondrous instrument. But nothing is outside the realm of science, which is the language of the Universe. And I am not impressed with someone who claims to see the future based upon skin. There is something wrong with that, racist even. Palmistry is a case of diversion, where a great fuss is made about an irrelevant topic (skin), with the sole purpose of disarming the defenses of the one being read. The actual work involves observation, psychoanalysis, and deductive reasoning. That is all mundane and boring stuff, but it works, and it is not necessarily as cumbersome or slow as one might suppose, and may even be accurate enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck.

Seinfeld

Seinfeld really is one of the better comedy shows in television history. The more times I watch the show, the more I notice the meticulous care that went into every detail, from the choice of clothing to the design of the set. I used to think Seinfeld was not such a great actor himself, but I've changed my mind. He's actually very good, but declines to overact, unlike lesser actors. In addition, Seinfeld had a knack for getting outstanding performances from all of his costars and even minor actors in the supporting cast. I've watched the same actors in other shows where they did not seem as good. Jason-Alexander, who plays the underdog "George Costanza," was the most important actor on the show as well as the most versatile. I can't see the show working without George.

Although the actors were all top-notch, the key to the show's success lies in the writing. It's ingenious. The action unfolds with such a perfect timing that it appears natural and organic, although every aspect is planned and every detail has a purpose. It's also concerned with moral issues, although it pretends otherwise. The "show about nothing" is actually about everything.

Gay Marriage

When I was young, I never imagined that gay marriage would one day become a serious political issue and that Presidential candidates would define their positions on this issue on live national television, without saying a single word derogatory against gays. It blows my mind. Many preconceptions have been swept away like so much refuse. I believe it does say something positive about the United States and about Western civilization in general, that we can talk about sexual orientation in a rational way that makes sense. I'm just glad that the issue is on the table, so to speak. Whether gay marriage becomes recognized by the federal government in my lifetime, progress has been made--a huge amount of progress at that. This is of benefit to everyone. Some people believe only gays benefit. Everyone benefits, because the more happiness, the better. Humans are interconnected like nodes on a network or bricks in a wall. Every individual exerts a certain amount of influence upon the entire community. If some become content, then more are likely to become so in the future. Gays are members of straight families. They are your co-workers, neighbors, teachers, police, soldiers, et cetera. When some benefit, all benefit.

There was an article in the Associated Press about a disappointed bed and breakfast owner in Vermont who had expected crowds of gay couples to visit Vermount to get married. He has only booked one couple, so far.

The news takes time to digest, first of all. Many gays grew up in a world where it was a foregone assumption that marriage was not in the cards. It will take time to adjust to the idea of gay marriage, not just for straight people, but gay as well, although younger people will have a much easier time adjusting. Marriage is not the sort of thing anyone wants to rush into, least of all because of a change in law. It carries responsibilities and risks. If the federal government extends recognition of gay marriage, which brings Social Security and many other important benefits, then that will help a great deal. Then you might very well see an increase in gay marriages.

By necessity, in the past, gay couples learned to develop their own valuation for their relationships, independent of society's. One of the first lessons I had to learn as a young man was to stop being so concerned with what the rest of the world thought about homosexuality. If they say you must be other than what you are, then they are wrong, and you are right. No one can be other than what they are. If we could, then I would not be human at all, but an elf versed in necromancy and divination, and I would reveal both the hidden past and the future of the world on my blog to those who cared to read me.

When I grew up, gay relationships existed outside of the law and to a large extent even outside of society itself. We lived in an underground community, although there were bridges to the wider community. It was not possible to obtain approval or recognition of our relationships by the wider community, only within the subculture. We learned to conceal relationships, rather than be open about them with others. For instance, when in public, no hand-holding, no hugging. That was reserved for private. Secrecy and discretion were important. Marriage blows the lid off of this construction. To say the least, it takes getting used to. But I think it is good for everyone. Openness is better than secrecy. It is better to live in a world where people can be who they are, rather than putting forth an artificial image, as happened often in the past. Where subterfuge in necessary, both the deceiver and the deceived suffer, but the deceiver most of all, because subterfuge wastes precious energy and time and incurs certain risks.

I observe that homosexuality is on its way to normalization and is even becoming mundane, and I'm glad. It was never all that difficult to understand in my view. If you begin with the observation that life itself is irrational, then everything else follows. Sex is an irrational act by an irrational being. Why should we want to do it? An even more interesting question is, why are we here? I don't think anyone knows all the answers, least of all those who assert with absolute certainty that they do.

Today, most of my friends are straight, not gay, which seems contrary to what one might expect. I prefer straight couples for friends, though, because there's no element of jealousy. I suspect that they like my partner and me for similar reasons. For straight couples, a gay couple is a safe bet. The wife is not going to wind up in bed with one of the guys, and the husband would have to be gay to do so. There's never a problem.

When socializing with other gay couples, there is a risk that, over the years, some one among the four might succumb in a moment of weakness to temptation, and say or do something that crosses the line. This is more dangerous due to the lack of marriage bonds for gay couples, which renders our relationships dissoluble in an instant. Single gay men in particular are not my favorite choice of a friend, and I say that based upon experience, even though we are likely to have much in common. In general, I prefer to invite a liberal straight couple over for dinner.

Because of my socialization with straight people, I realize that most people, today, have no problem with homosexuality. The subject almost never arises. In their view, there's more for them, if you see what I mean. We are not competing with them for a scarce resource, and that's the bottom line. If we were competing, it might be a different matter. Being gay is something of a novelty these days, and I perceive that as friends, we represent a trophy that denotes coolness, enlightenment. That's a flattering change from the hostile past, and fine by me, although the reality is, we are all the same at heart. We are human first, gay second. That is important to remember. Most traits about a person are universal. What you find in one person, you will find in many.

Gordian III

One of the more popular Emperors in Roman history due to his family ties, this teenager reigned but a brief time. Literate and learned, he inherited a library of 60,000 manuscripts from his martyred family. Books published in modern times are priced like ordinary commodities. Where ancient texts are concerned, however, it is quite a different matter. In many instances, historians writing the history of the ancient world have been forced to rely upon a few sources or even a single one, and these sources vary a great deal in accuracy. Therefore, a single significant new text from Plato or Aristotle, for incidence, could be worth many millions of dollars. Gordian the Third's library, if discovered intact and containing important texts, could exceed the value of any single treasure--diamond or work of art--in the world. The value would be priceless, and any self-respecting government in the world would want to have its secrets. Men are curious about their ancestors.

Ancient observers should have foreseen the doom approaching the Roman Empire, because there were many signs as the Empire continued its long and steady decline. Someone with foresight may have taken measures to preserve for posterity the literature of the age within a time capsule, much the same as later generations have done. There may be coffers filled with manuscripts hidden in the dry and preserving climate of Egypt. Maybe one day such a capsule will be unearthed and rock the academic world. But beware of frauds.

As for the young Emperor Gordian III, he met his doom at the age of nineteen in a war waged in what is now Iraq.

Venter Makes Bold Predictions

Biologist Dr. Craig Venter is known for talking and thinking big, but if he delivers on a substantial portion of his predictions as published in the Daily Mail, then we should put his mug on the one dollar bill, because he will be a hero of civilization.

According to C.V., future generations may derive energy from the living, rather than the dead. Living microorganisms will produce energy that we now get from fossil fuels. Cheaper energy is all that stands between civilization and improved living conditions for all. Energy that does not produce substantial pollution would be a godsend.

Also, science may be able to halt and even reverse global warming. However, that does raise the specter of a new means of warfare. By changing the composition of the atmosphere, a landlocked, mountainous nation could attempt to harm by proxy a nation with developed coastlines. It would be a crime comparable to the very worst in the annals of warfare, but instead of a crime against just humanity, it would be a crime against the planet itself and all living organisms.

The Wisdom of Hesiod

That book of Hesiod's Theogony and Works and Days proved to be a spectacular investment on my part. I was curious what a writer who lived eight hundred years before the birth of Christ would have to say. There is no doubt that any man who gathers up all of Hesiod's wisdom will become an unstoppable force. Here are some of his pearls of wisdom:

"The 21st of the month is best after sunrise; it is worse toward evening. The middle 9th is a better day toward evening; but the first 9th is altogether harmless for men."

Aha! Hesiod divined the secrets of Numerology. Just as I've always suspected, there are good numbers and bad numbers!

"When your private parts are covered with semen indoors, do not let them be seen as you go near the hearth-fire, but avoid it."

I would certainly hope so.

"Never urinate in the waters of rivers that flow to the sea."

It is impolite to those that dwell downstream.

"Invite to dinner him who is friendly, and leave your enemy be."

I only wish I had known this before. All this time, I've been inviting my enemies to dinner and leaving my friends be.

Well, these are only examples of his sage instruction. Thank you, Hesiod. So much.

#

Although Hesiod presents an easy target for modern sarcasm, I am not serious, and would never consign his books to the garbage. Don't worry! I haven't had a good excuse to wax sarcastic in quite some time, and I needed to work out some of the irritation I had endured with Hesiod. Especially Theogony. Brother! It's not easy for me to read anyway, these days, with all the television shows competing for my attention, but trying to read Theogony really slowed me down. I was reading about three pages a day, if that, and sometimes less than a page.

Hesiod was an old, dear, quaint fellow, and I read him not so much for instruction, but to satisfy my curiosity about how people lived in those days. From that angle, Hesiod was a delight, especially Works and Days. Theogony I found impenetrable, just like Numbers in the Bible. Too many "begats" and not enough action. I liked Works and Days better. Hesiod is a learned man addressing simple men and therefore has no reservation against stating the obvious. What appears obvious to a modern was not always so to an ancient, particularly the rustics who composed Hesiod's audience.

Here's an interesting insight into marriage customs of the time:

In due season bring a wife into your house, when you are neither many years short of thirty nor many beyond it: this is your seasonable marriage. As for the woman, she should have four years of menstruation and be married in the fifth. Marry a virgin so that you may teach her good ways; and for preference marry her who lives near you, with all circumspection in case your marriage is a joke to the neighbors. For a man acquires nothing better than the good wife, and nothing worse than the bad one, the glutton, who singes a man without a brand, strong though he may be, and consigns him to premature old age.

In other words, be careful and know the person before you marry her. In Hesiod's time, just as today, men were marrying women based upon looks alone. I think the advice on "a seasonable age" for both the woman and the man is designed to encourage large families. The ancients always wanted large families, the better to protect against neighboring hostile tribes. Hesiod expected men to wait until thirty to marry, because prior to that, they liked to play the field, which encompassed same-sex as well as opposite-sex relationships.

Considering the history of Ancient Greece, it is probable that Hesiod gave advice concerning same-sex relationships, as well. According to the translator, many ancient manuscripts were partial scraps. The manuscripts may have been censored by prudish monks. What we possess are, in many cases, fragments of copies of copies, translated or not. The closest Hesiod comes to advice for gays concerns men who have "a dear friend that is like a brother," and there he offers little other than "repay any wrongs with vengeance that harms twice as much," which sounds foolish, and "always forgive the transgressor who tries to make amends," which sounds more reasonable. He notes that those who change their friends often should reflect upon their own disposition rather than blaming others, which seems reasonable for his time, although nowadays, we change locations so often that it may not be convenient to maintain long-distance friendships.

Teachers I've Known

In the tenth grade, I transferred from a public school to a small, Christian private school. A minority of people argue that such schools are better. I would say that sometimes they are, and sometimes they aren't. It depends on the school.

As for the Christian component, it was not overbearing. We had a chaplain on campus who taught the smaller kids and acted as the vice principal, but he was out of touch with the students. He disliked me from the first, because I disliked those orders of his that I thought were harsh or unnecessary. He felt that I should go along without a murmur in every event, which was a fundamental disagreement between us. After a few incidents and the intervention of the principal, a ceasefire was arranged. Over time, the chaplain learned that I was easier to manage than the others, just as long as he did not act overbearing. It was just a question of style. He tweaked his style and learned to smile once in a while, instead of frowning all the time as he had been in the habit of doing. Before I left the school, we shook hands and wished each other well, and I think that was a satisfactory outcome.

Our principal was pretty good. I liked him. A lifelong bachelor, he was probably gay, but a conservative Christian and closeted gay, if you can wrap your mind around that. He had a photo of himself shaking hands with a Republican President. I liked him because he was kind and understanding, yet also firm enough to keep order. A softie, he wasn't. He also knew more than your average squirrel and taught me a thing or two whenever he substituted for a missing teacher, which was often in our school. His specialty was language, and he knew grammar through and through. I always viewed him as the knight in shining armor, among everyone else in the school. Without exception, all the teachers liked him, and I suspect the parents and students did, too.

Most of the ills of the school were the result of an insufficient budget. The principal did the best he could, but salaries were nowhere near what teachers could earn in public schools. This meant that we got unlicensed teachers who had not yet completed their education, as well as the dregs of the surrounding schools, those who had been fired from other schools for misconduct or a disagreement of some sort or another. The student body was composed of the same sort, including yours truly.

I had an alcoholic French teacher, for instance, who showed up to class sloshed once in a while. Her favorite expression, which punctuated any bad French translation offered by a student, was "merdez-moo!" which supposedly meant "bulls---". This was repeated enough times that I remember and sometimes use the phrase to this day, although not in my writing, because readers wouldn't understand. Her story was that her only son had put a bullet in his brain. She was over the hill, divorced and alone and figured nothing really mattered all that much anymore. She liked me and, in my senior year, would sometimes loan me the keys to her car to pick up food from Taco Bell at lunch. I don't remember ever abusing her trust, although I was tempted. It just seemed too easy to do and I felt she had had enough trouble, all things considered. The boys liked her, but instead of studying French, they preferred to study her camel-toe in class. You can say, "she should have been fired," but that is easier said than done. It is not such a simple matter to replace a French teacher. However, the other teachers disapproved of her, as you can well imagine, and gossip made the rounds, increasing in nastiness until she had to be fired. I think that women can be harsh critics of other women, even more often than of men, for some reason having to do with competition. Yes, she deserved to be fired, but then again, so did some of the male teachers. After that, I think the school went without a foreign language for a while. It didn't make all that much difference to the academic integrity of the school.

Another teacher was a grumpy old man who had issues with anger. If anyone deserved to be fired, it was him most of all. He taught social studies and history, but knew next to nothing and did little more than read from the textbook. I have no idea why he ever entered the profession of teaching, other than unemployment. He was one of the worst teachers I ever had, and I pitied the many boys who ran afoul of the old man's temper. The man knew better than to assault female students, because that would have resulted in serious complications. He was known to seize a boy by the collar, shake him, throw him to the floor, slap and claw like an animal, and scream in his face like a drill sergeant. Sometimes the boy might have said or done nothing at all to deserve this treatment, if it is ever deserved. I was a victim of his wrath once, but only once, but I don't remember the circumstances, and believe that he was lighter on me than on others, just screaming and nothing else. I learned to place myself in a strategic location in the classroom. Like most ogres, his vision was poor, so I placed myself far in the back behind a taller person. I wore dark colors, gray or black, like a ninja, and got into the habit of slouching deep in my chair to appear smaller and less conspicuous. The main thing was staying out of his sight and not saying anything at all or making any kind of noise or any kind of movement. I slept with eyes open in his class, daydreaming until it was over. It was not necessary to pay attention, because his tests were all open-book, and everyone always passed, usually with an "A". The man might have had a problem with his temper, but he was no fool. He didn't want students to make any serious complaints that might jeopardize his job.

Sometimes, a boy appealed to the principal. In such a case, the principal would visit the classroom to ask the teacher for more information, but in reality he was studying the faces of the students to determine whether the teacher had "gone off" again or whether the boy really had been provocative, as sometimes happened. This teacher was given warnings several times. His outbursts did become less frequent, although he remained grumpy and unapproachable. He had a stroke and was forced to resign due to medical issues. I think he died soon after. No one missed him, although some of us remembered his classes as being easy and even entertaining in their own way. As I thought all of the classes were equally easy, I was glad he was gone.

Another teacher I remember was a short, balding, middle-aged man who moonlighted as a gumshoe for suspicious wives and husbands. He was popular among the students, because the boys liked to work for him. He paid the boys minimum wage to sit in a car for hours and just watch people, which is a pretty easy job, but with the boys at my school, I imagine they goofed off rather than do a good job of watching anyone. I wanted to join these stakeouts, but the teacher had already had grievous experiences hiring students, and was not willing to take a chance on any new people. I believe he lost a couple of clients due to botched investigations.

At any rate, one day he became fed up and decided to quit. I think he was displeased with the students who worked for him, because I don't remember the girls or myself giving him any problems in class. The way he went about quitting was unique among teachers. He did not just give two weeks' notice and bow out in silence. Instead, he came to class one day and told all of us how rotten we were, and how he despaired of ever teaching us anything, because we were all a bunch of dunderheads, although he used a profane term. Indeed, his entire lecture was punctuated with profanity. He said we were all going to be losers in life and there was no hope at all, and he was washing his hands of us. He said we would all end up bagging groceries for a living or digging ditches. He abandoned all pretense of teaching, using the entire class period to insult the students, although he didn't insult his fellow teachers or the principal. In his view, the students were to blame for everything.

Late in his monologue, he was interrupted by the principal, who suggested in a quiet voice that he leave the premises. He wanted no dispute with our principal, who was considered a good man by all. In fact, I think the intervention of the principal was like an intervention from Heaven itself, because the man had second thoughts, and began to regret his words. Before he left, he apologized to the class and said he didn't mean any of what he had said earlier.

Although he didn't teach a formal lesson, he did teach us an important lesson, all the same. A lesson of how not to quit a job. He admitted to this with disarming candor, "I've burned my bridges here at this school, but I hope none of you do as I have done, because it's probably not the brightest thing for a man to do." I never followed his tact in later life. Wherever possible, before leaving a job, I gave two weeks' notice and tried to maintain a civil tone. There is no point in wasting breath on people that in all likelihood one will never see again. Just say good-bye and collect the last check. Work is called business for a reason. It's not drama school. Collect the money and go. Case closed.

The other teachers were less colorful, which is to say normal and not all that noteworthy. They tried to teach their assigned classes, instead of using the classroom as a personal therapy session to deal with anger, depression or anxiety. One was a bright young attractive woman whose husband managed a grocery store, and I thought that might be of help vis-a-vis my getting a job. More than anything, I wanted to make money to pay for a car, the dream of all teenagers. Her husband's grocery store, moreover, paid a handsomer wage than the grocery store near my house. I asked her if she would recommend me to her husband. While she claimed that she did, no offer of an interview ever materialized.

Another teacher always seemed to be smiling. In retrospect, she was probably on some kind of psychiatric medication. I liked her and, because of her habit of smiling to everyone, I assumed for a long time that she also liked me. We had a misunderstanding one day that reversed my assumption. I was in the schoolyard minding my own business, but I had a cold and was taking medication for it, making no secret of the fact. She sneaked up on me from behind, seized my arm, and accused me of selling drugs. Of course, I showed her the tabs where the medicine had come from. Nevertheless, she took me to the principal's office, and either the principal or she called my parents. My parents were both at work, however. I am not sure how much time passed, possibly a day or two, but eventually it was confirmed that I was taking medication for my cold. This defused the situation, although I never received any apology. But after that incident, I realized that I was tainted by being a student at this school. With the possible exception of the fired French teacher, none of the teachers trusted any of us and they tended to think the worst of us in any event. That was an intrinsic part of the school's culture, a meme shared by all of the teachers to varying degrees. Some resisted this meme better than others, but it was pervasive and inescapable. Even the good teachers succumbed to it.