Honestly, I get it. But then again, I kind of don’t. Why do people always wait until the 1st of January before they initiate all of those lofty, life-altering projects of radical self improvement? I’ve never believed in making new year’s resolutions because I’ve never viewed the start of a new year as a monumental event. Life is life, no matter the date, and no matter the year. The quality of life is generally unaffected by the numerical value that we’ve assigned to our days.

Whenever people tell me they plan to lose weight as part of their new year’s resolution, I always have to prevent myself from blurting out something snarky like, “I never knew being a fat-ass was a seasonal condition.” Okay, so I’m a sarcastic, holiday-bashing asshole, but at least I’m skinny, you Auld Lang Syne bitches! But seriously, consider this: I lost thirty pounds in 2009 between the months of May and August. When I finally got serious about losing weight, I didn’t stop to make sure that the earth had made its full rotation around the sun before I got my shit together. If there’s something that needs to be done, and you aren’t doing what you’re supposed to be doing, then don’t blame the position of the planet for your lack of action.

So on that note, I’m going to contradict myself and make a new year’s resolution without any sense of irony. I resolve in 2010 to write a novel. I’ve been kicking around ideas for more than eight years now, and all of my good intentions have amounted to an unimpressive collection of notes and infrequent blog entries. This year will be different. I’m not sure what I’m going to write about, and I’m not sure if what I have to say is really all that worthwhile. I just know that I have to try for once, instead of coasting dreamlessly through the gentle, ferocious monotony.

Kevin: You never understand my Simpsons references.

Diana: That’s because all of your references are stupid and obscure.

Kevin: They’re not obscure, they’re subtle. You know, like the “b” in “subtle”? You don’t really notice it in there, and you never, ever see it coming. It’s just a silent letter. It’s kind of funny when you stop to think about the word, actually. The letter “b” subtly epitomizes the very essence of the word, “subtle”. That’s a highly unusual thing, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t it fascinating how the letter “b” in a word like “subtle” can so perfectly illustrate the definition of the word that contains it?

Diana: . . . (sigh)

Kevin: You like that, Diana?

Diana: Nope.

Kevin: That’s always your answer. Do you ever like anything?

Diana: Not anything that ever comes out of your mouth.

Kevin: Well, that’s not very subtle. That’s like the “s” in “subtle”. Or the “t” in “subtle”. Or to a lesser extent, the “l” in “subtle”. Because you see, you hear the “l”, but it’s not as pronounced as . . .

Diana: Kevin, go away.

The mysteries of life and existence reveal their truths to us in many ways. I suppose that’s the appeal of staying alive — the romance belying the promise of unraveled complexities. Yet while the answers tantalize us from eternities of near horizons, the mysteries of life have a way of disappearing when you deconstruct them to their simplest components. The world doesn’t seem as romantic a place when you peel away the assumptions of awe, profound purpose, and reverent wonder. And after all, what’s life without a little romance? I ask that question earnestly, because I’m not always sure I know the answer.

We imbue our lives with so much significance and insist on the eminence of such things as God, love, society, and principle. I don’t claim to understand any of these things. I am no scientist, and I am no philosopher with a viewpoint worth a damn. All I know how to do is to deconstruct without remembering how the pieces fit back together when I’m done. At times lately, the mysteries of life seem to do nothing more than exhaust me. It’s a tiring game, pretending that life still enchants you.

As far as my imagination will allow me to comprehend, it occurs to me that life, the universe, and existence can all be summed up into a simple phrase: crude physicality. Humanity defines its salvation on the belief that we transcend beyond mere flesh, that we are so much more than just a collection of cells and chaotic particles: molecules, atoms, strings, and quarks, all stirring about in the cosmic stew. But what does it mean to be saved when you reduce the most precious things in our universe to crude physicality?

Everything within the realm of human understanding is rooted in something physical. Thoughts and emotions are a mix of chemicals and electrical charges running through our bodies. Words and songs and poems and laws and inspired revelations are mere conceits of the mind, all rooted in physical stimuli darting about our brains. The most beautiful sounds ever heard, the most profound revelations ever conceived, and the deepest sensations of passion ever endured can all be reduced to mundane explanations of biology and body chemistry. We exist as complex formations of mass perceiving existence through waves of vibrations in matter both within and without us. We exist on a plane of particles and space, actions and reactions, friction and collision. The human body is merely a vessel, crudely calibrated to experience existence on a physical plane.

The mysteries of life and existence seem less distant and a little less significant as you approach the realization that nothing we can define is truly intangible. What romance is there left to find when you reduce everything to a heap of stimuli and oscillating atoms? What is romance at all? What is life?

The best among us might persist in the face of so much pessimism and sing a hopeful song about the beauty of life; but what is song? The most beautiful sounds a human can create begin as electrical impulses in the brain, which travel organic conduits to inform the lungs and the tongue and the diaphragm to inflate and sing. Gentle sounds pass through vibrating bags of flesh up a tube and through the lips, and the sounds stir surrounding air molecules and send waves of vibrating measures traveling to every living thing with an eardrum within range. These sounds penetrate chambers of ears and stimulate tiny eardrums, which dutifully report the sensations to their own corresponding brains. And that’s how song can travel from one mind to another. Song is the perception of creation, one mind almost literally touching another through a vibration of particles in a delicate dance of reciprocity. Song is such a marvelous thing, yet what is song if nothing more than a complex vibration of particles in the air? Song is merely sound, matter set into motion by breathing bags of liquid, flesh, and gas. Life is a mere gathering of mass haplessly prodded into untidy motion. Salvation can seem like less of a sure thing in the course of so much crude physicality.

I suppose this litany reveals me as something of a cynic, though I’ve always thought myself as more of a grudging optimist. In the midst of all this nihilism and detachment, I’ve sought out refuge in even the most unlikely corners. Of all of the strange places to look for reassurance, my journey has led me to a fundamental law of physics: The Law of Conservation of Matter. According to the matter conservation law, while matter is constantly changing its form, it is neither destroyed nor created. In a closed system, while the same sample of water might transform freely between drops of liquid, chunks of ice, or wisps of vapor, the number of atoms within the system would always remain the same. There is no destruction or creation. Matter is merely rearranged.

The physicality of existence is not something that we should necessarily despair. Even without the mysticism of the sacred intangible, there is beauty yet to find. All that has ever existed, and all that has yet to exist, are one and the same. The same substances that make up our bodies, the same particles that we live to breathe, the same molecules that we consume and digest, the same chemicals that swell deep emotions inside our chests – it’s all the same stuff that once composed the dinosaurs, the same particles that those ancient beasts breathed, the same atoms and molecules that once composed ancient civilizations, the same complex amalgamation of chemicals and mass that once inspired our ancestors in distant times to write poetry, to fall in love, to celebrate and commune, to go to war and to make peace. The stuff of life and existence is constantly in a state of reformation and revision.

There is so much triviality that serves to divide us, yet so much uniformity of substance and form that reminds us that we are all but individual specimens of a vast, astonishing whole. In life, though we might act with a fair degree of independence, we all walk fundamentally in step, coasting the interminable waves of mass in unified momentum. Life is a dance of sensations, a barrage of vibrating stimuli, motions of matter that affect us in ways that are significantly the same. There’s a curious kind of harmony underlying our chaotic state. In death, I don’t claim to understand the intricacies of the everlasting soul, but I do know that the compounds of molecules within our bodies never cease to be. In death, there is no destruction, but deconstruction. We are merely rearranged. Perhaps when I die, the nutrients from my body will form into a tree which consumes carbon dioxide expelled from living lungs, and which exhales oxygen into the atmosphere for living lungs to breathe.

Everything that was and is to be exists in a state of infinite possibility. What is life? What is existence? The truths to those mysteries are far more exciting than they might at first seem.

In response to my super lengthy complaint letter to Six Flags Magic Mountain, I received the following letter from the park’s Senior Guest Relations Supervisor:

Dear Kevin,

Thank you for taking the time to forward your comments about the Ride Lockers and our Loose Article Policy.

Six Flags has identified several rides at each park where riders bringing loose articles onto the ride platform was slowing down the dispatch times significantly and making the ride wait times longer. At some of these rides, we have installed short-term lockers for the storage of articles. In an effort to increase capacity and shorten wait times, we are not allowing any items that can not be secured in a pocket to be brought onto the ride dock of these rides. Riders may choose to rent a locker, to leave the items with a non-rider, or place the items in their personal vehicle. We have tried to communicate this message to our Guests with signage, personnel stationed at the entrance to the rides, as well as updated text in the Park Map & Guide, and on our website.

Your letter gave us very valuable insight to your experience at the park regarding this policy. I want to assure you that I have forwarded your letter to our Senior Park Managment.

We hope you understand our only intent here is to minimize wait times for everyone. Again, we thank you for your comments, and hope to see you in one of our Park’s again soon. If you have any questions do not hesitate to contact me directly.

Sincerely,

Mr. B., Six Flags Magic Mountain Guest Relations

I do appreciate that Mr. B. took the time to write me back, but his letter reads more like an automated form letter than a thoughtful reply. Forgive my cynicism, but I’m not convinced that Six Flags’ main concern is “wait times”. If that were truly the only motivation for these temporary-use lockers, then why not make them free? Aside from that, I reject the premise that these lockers actually make the lines move faster. These locker checkpoints cause plenty of delay all on their own. Just because the bottleneck occurs somewhere other than the boarding platform, that doesn’t mean the line delay has magically disappeared.

Mr. B. also failed to address my complaint about the abusive manner in which the corporate Loose Articles Policy was being enforced. Was it absolutely necessary, for example, for the employee working on the Scream ride to throw away my souvenir cup? I guess corporate policy mandates that all employees act like absolute dicks, right?

I should also point out that some friends of mine recently visited Six Flags Discovery Kingdom in Vallejo, California. The locker policy is being strictly enforced there as well, which means that this bullshit is not exclusive to just the Valencia branch.

I’m done with Six Flags. I encourage everybody who reads this to think twice before patronizing your local Six Flags park. Every theme park shamelessly gouges you, but Six Flags is willing to stoop lower than most others out there. When your company values quick, ill-gotten revenue over customer satisfaction, then you don’t understand the first thing about making money, and you don’t deserve to stay in business. That’s not to say that I expect Six Flags to miss me very much, but I assure you the feeling is mutual.

I have a story for you, but there are two things you should know first.

(1) I hate redundant language. I hate it when people say “tuna fish”, or “PIN number”, for example. What used to bother me most of all, though, was when people said “ATM machine”. I mean come on, really? “Automatic Teller Machine Machine”? Ick.

But being the optimist that I am, I’ve come to understand that when people say “ATM machine”, I should give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they wouldn’t purposely utter something so idiotically redundant as “Automatic Teller Machine Machine”. If you’ve been to the websites I’ve visited, then you’d know that ATM can also stand for “Ass-To-Mouth.” Let’s just say in my world, when somebody tells me they’re going to the “ATM machine”, I’m always caught breathless by the shameless depravity of it all. Secretly, I’m also a little bitter that my bank doesn’t offer the same generous service at their own numerous locations.

By the way, Diana finds it really irritating when I refer to “Ass-To-Mouth Machines” in everyday conversation.

(2) Recently one night, Diana asked me to lend her some cash. I didn’t have enough in my wallet, and so I ended up driving to the local bank to make a withdrawal from the ATM.

So that’s where my story begins. I came home, handed Diana the cash, and told her that she’d better appreciate what I’d done for her, because I had just been mugged. She seemed oddly unmoved. Unperturbed by Diana’s cold silence, I pressed on with the full account:

It was dark when I got to the ATM, and I was all alone. So I thought, anyway. I had just inserted my card and punched in my PIN when this big dude with a knife came out of nowhere and pinned me to the wall near the ATM.

“Well, well,” he said, “Here we are at the Ass-To-Mouth machine. Hey boy, do you like ATM?”

I said to him, “Just to be clear, when you say ‘ATM’, you mean ‘ass-to-mouth’, right?”

“Of course, boy, what else could I have meant?”

“Oh.” I said. “Well then, no.”

Then the dude seemed really disappointed and lowered his knife a bit and said, “Oh, that’s too bad. Because I had a real hankering for somebody to fuck me in the ass and to put it in my mouth afterward.”

I realized then that I had misunderstood his intentions. He wanted me to play pitcher, not receiver. I kind of felt bad for the guy, so I ended up fucking him in the ass and going ATM near the finish. You’d think the dude would have walked away happy after that. But the thing is, after we were done, he stole my money anyway, and I had to withdraw more cash before coming home.

It was the strangest mugging ever.

Not one single laugh from Diana. She just continued to stare at me until I left the room. Why do I waste all of my good material on her?

Mr. B.,

My name is Kevin Zing, and I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. My girlfriend and I went to a lot of trouble on the weekend of August 15, 2009 to drive down to Valencia to visit Magic Mountain. A one-way car trip takes a little under five hours from where we live. Given the amount of time and money that we invested into the trip, we were disappointed that our time spent in your park was characterized more by frustrating, unpleasant confrontations, than by fun and entertainment. I personally was greatly disappointed by the overall level of customer service and care offered at your park throughout the day. Mainly, I take issue with your park’s “loose articles” policy.

The ”Loose Articles” Policy

As I understand it, you have a policy that prohibits any and all loose articles from being placed on the boarding platforms of your rides. Loose articles such as backpacks and purses, for example, are technically not allowed anywhere near a roller coaster boarding platform. To “accommodate” guests who are carrying loose articles, you provide temporary storage lockers in front of most of your major rides and charge a $1 fee at each location. Alternatively, you provide locker storage space near the main entrance of the park for $11. I wouldn’t object to the locker prices if their use was voluntary, but I resent the fact that use of these lockers is mandatory for all loose articles, even including items such as your refillable souvenir soda cups, and shopping bags from your own gift shops.

Summary of Events

My girlfriend and I were confronted numerous times by park employees for merely walking through a line for a roller coaster with a gift bag and a souvenir cup in our hands. We were told time and again to either stow away our belongings in a $1 locker, or to get out of line. When we asked your employees why they wouldn’t allow us to simply set our belongings aside near the exit of the ride platform (as is custom practice at every other amusement park we’ve visited), your employees would invariably tell us that they were simply following “corporate policy”. For a while, we gave in and started using the temporary lockers at each ride.

After a while, we decided to save ourselves some hassle by stowing away the gift bag in an $11 locker, but still opted to carry around the souvenir cup. It was a hot day, after all, as it often is in that valley. One of the most upsetting and frustrating confrontations of the day happened shortly afterwards in the line for Scream. As we were nearing the boarding platform, the employee tending to the line asked us to stow away the cup in a locker. It’s frustrating to me that I’m not allowed to carry a drink while waiting in line for a roller coaster in the sweltering heat of Valencia. After some argument with your employee, my girlfriend grabbed the cup and simply placed it on top of the lockers and started to walk away. At this, your employee called out, “Ma’am, if you leave that cup there, then I will throw it away.” Thoroughly frustrated, I told him that I wasn’t paying a dollar to store the cup, and that he should just throw it away. We left the cup behind, and indeed it was nowhere to be seen once our ride was over.

Promptly afterwards, my girlfriend and I made a stop at your guest relations office. It was around 7pm when we decided to do this. At this point, I must mention that the young lady working behind the counter (her name is K) handled our complaint professionally, attentively, and with a much-needed dose of empathy. She listened to what we had to say and acknowledged our frustration. My girlfriend and I both commend K for being great at what she does.

K’s manager, on the other hand, seemed curt and disinterested. He didn’t see anything wrong with the fact that the employee from the Scream ride bluntly threatened us with an ultimatum to either pay a dollar or to have our property thrown away in retaliation for leaving it unattended for 10 minutes. This manager (I regret that I didn’t catch his name) ended the conversation by stating that the only thing we could accomplish that night was to basically issue a formal complaint against any of those rides whose employees did not strictly enforce the locker rule. Naturally, my girlfriend and I declined to complain about not being harassed enough while we stood patiently in your lines. Afterwards, K redeemed your guest relations office by offering us some courtesy and providing us your contact information.

Complaint

Mr. B., I was compelled to write you this letter because I strongly believe that Six Flags’ “loose articles” policy is not only unfair and abusive to your customers, but it also can hurt your company’s profitability in the long run. I know how obnoxious it can be to receive a complaint letter from a presumptuous customer telling you how to run your business, but I ask you to please take note of my arguments and to objectively consider whether operations and policies at your park (or parks) could be improved. My arguments are as follows.

1. Your “loose articles” policy deviates from industry standards in a way that falls well short of the common consumer’s expectations.

Every amusement park out there abides by the same golden rule: “The park is not responsible for any lost, stolen, or damaged property.” At any given amusement park, when I leave my belongings aside while I board a ride, I am fully aware that a stranger could potentially steal my property, and that I would have no legal right to hold the park accountable. In basically every other amusement park that I’ve visited, aside from Magic Mountain, I have been allowed to set my belongings down somewhere near the exit of a boarding platform when it has been my turn to board a ride.

I was both surprised and annoyed to learn that your park prohibits this very common practice. I resent being charged a dollar to stow away my belongings in a temporary-use locker each time I want to board a roller coaster. Yes, I do realize that there are $11 lockers available at the front of the park, but my preference would be to avoid that steep fee. In fact, it would be my preference to avoid all locker fees and to simply be allowed the option to gamble on the goodness of humanity when I leave my property unattended on a boarding platform. When I questioned your employees on why I was not allowed to leave my belongings unattended, I received one of two official answers: (1) “It’s for your own protection”, and (2) “It’s corporate policy”. I find neither answer acceptable.

When the average consumer enters your amusement park, he or she expects to be given a choice on whether to use your storage lockers. As soon as those lockers become a burdensome obligation, the consumer begins to suspect that your organization is deviating from industry practices solely in an effort to gouge your captive audience. I consider myself a cynical consumer with low expectations. When I enter a place of business as a captive audience member (places like amusement parks or movie theaters), I expect to be overcharged for amenities. I don’t balk at $4 bottles of water or $6 hotdogs, because, I know that’s all just part of the game. But being forced to stow away my possessions for every ride is unacceptable, given that most other amusement parks out there allow you to opt for convenience over the safety of $1 lockers at the entrance of every major ride. While it may be safer to lock up your belongings every single time, it sure feels a lot less fun when you’re being told to either pay a dollar, get out of line, or else have your belongings thrown away if you decide to do neither.

Your “Loose Articles” policy kills whatever joy there is to have in your amusement park.

2. Your policy on loose articles discourages customers from spending money inside your park. Generally, the policy can and will lead to a loss of sales.

The whole day, your employees hassled me for carrying around items that I had bought inside the park. I was told to stow away both my shopping bag full of souvenirs, and my refillable souvenir cup. Had I known ahead of time that your merchandise would become such a burden, I would never have bought them in the first place. Given how much grief I received very early on, I decided not to buy anything else aside from food strictly as a matter of principle. My girlfriend and I had intended to visit your park one more time on Sunday before driving back home, but we couldn’t stand the thought of paying your organization any more money than we already had. At the very least, parking would have cost us another $15. We decided instead to drive home first thing Sunday morning.

What frustrates me about my experience in your park is that I suffered abuse due to corporate policies that frankly don’t make any good business sense. What’s the benefit of encouraging your customers to buy souvenirs, only to make them regret doing so for the rest of the day? Your policies discourage people from playing games with large stuffed animals as prizes. Your policies made me regret buying those t-shirts. Your policies made me think twice about buying all of those useless trinkets that I would have brought back to my friends at home. My girlfriend and I had intended to make it a yearly tradition to drive down to Valencia to visit your park. After this miserable experience, our plans to return are indefinitely on hold.

I contrast my experience from last Saturday to my previous visit in 2008, which impressed me so much that I couldn’t wait to come back in 2009. Perhaps it’s not that distressing to you to lose business from an out-of-town tourist like myself, since you have the luxury to rely on a steady stream of local clientele. Please be advised that I spent all Saturday at Magic Mountain with two of my friends who live in Southern California, and they both were not very enthusiastic about returning to the park after everything we went through.

Perhaps your locker policy succeeds in squeezing out some extra revenue from customers in the short run, but your consumers remember things, and we have common sense. When people like me leave your park, we feel ripped off and exploited. You are discouraging people like me from ever patronizing a Six Flags park again. Please step back and view your company policies. Can you truly and objectively say that your organization is on the right track?

3. You are fostering a company culture in which employees think it is okay to issue ultimatums, throw away your customers’ property, and to cite “corporate policy” as an argument-stopper with frustrated customers.

The level of customer service I experienced last Saturday was unsatisfactory. On one hand, I do understand that your employees have an obligation to enforce company policies, even when the rules are not popular with the customers. On the other hand, I didn’t appreciate the authoritarian vibe that all of your workers were sending off.

I didn’t appreciate being issued ultimatums to either pay money or to step out of a line inside a park where I’ve already paid a steep admission fee. I also didn’t appreciate being told that my property was fair game for the garbage can if I refused to stow away my souvenir cup for a fee. Again, I stress the fact that Saturday the 15th was a hot day in Valencia. It’s irritating that I wasn’t allowed to carry my drink with me while I stood in your long lines in the oppressive heat. One of your workers even went so far as to throw away my $14 souvenir cup because I was too cheap to shell out that last dollar for the privilege to ride Scream.

Finally, all but one of your employees failed to offer me any adequate explanation as to why I was not allowed to leave my belongings unattended as I boarded your rides. All day, I heard employees tell me that it was “corporate policy” for all customers to stow away their loose articles. All of your employees merely took it for granted that I would accept that as an adequate explanation. I don’t mean to come off as a snooty customer service know-it-all, but one of the most basic lessons that I learned from my days as a retail clerk is not to tell a customer that something has to be done merely because it is “corporate policy”. It’s a cold, impersonal thing for a company representative to say, and it almost never satisfies a frustrated customer.

To your credit, you have found an able customer service representative in K. According to K’s explanation, in the past, too many customers were accusing Magic Mountain employees of stealing loose articles left on ride platforms, so the company decided to make lockers mandatory on all rides. If what K says is accurate, then I consider your new policy on loose articles to be a massive overcorrection. Regardless, I appreciated her taking the time to explain the policy to me. K’s manager, on the other hand, showed little interest in my concerns and ended the conversation without fully hearing me out. The company policy is what it is, and your manager on duty at guest relations wasn’t interested in fielding complaints about “corporate policy”.

No consumer goes to an amusement park and expects first class customer service, but I was thoroughly disappointed by this kind of treatment.

Conclusion

In short, Mr. B., I feel ripped off. In order to visit your park, I drove 5 hours down from the Bay Area and 5 hours back up to return home. I paid for two nights’ stay at a local hotel, and for two full tanks of gas, and I even bought season passes so that I could visit your park twice in the same weekend visit. I paid your parking fee, and I bought your $14 souvenir cup which all of your drink vendors pushed so hard to sell to me. I even bought some souvenirs from your gift stores. Amid all of that ill-advised spending, I barely had an opportunity to have any fun.

I went well out of my way to visit your park in Valencia, and I left for home unsatisfied. Although the rides at your park are unparalleled in the state, there are cheaper and more local alternatives available to me in Northern California. I probably would have had a much better time at Great America in Santa Clara, for instance, where they don’t hassle you for leaving your stuff aside to ride a two minute roller coaster.

Your policies, and the way that your employees enforce them, suggest a troubling corporate culture in which your organization cynically views customers as dollar signs to be exploited rather than valued guests with common sense. It was my intention to visit Magic Mountain at least once a year. Your policies and your overall approach to customer service, however, have greatly discouraged me from coming back.

I have to wonder whether your policy on loose articles is truly a corporate, nationwide rule for all Six Flags locations, or if it only applies to Magic Mountain in particular. I don’t know whether you have any control or say in the creation and enforcement of corporate policy, but I thought that you ought to know at least what’s happening in your own park.

Thank you sincerely for taking the time to read my letter,
Kevin Zing

GOD: You fault me for my lack of intervention?

KEVIN: Of course.

GOD: Just a moment ago, you told me that God should let His children live their own lives.

KEVIN: In an ideal universe, even the most aloof and irresponsible deity would take at least some measures to stop his children from hating and killing each other.

GOD: The funny thing about ideals is that they can differ so greatly depending on the dreamer. Sometimes, not even the dreamer himself can agree with his own ideals.

KEVIN: I see where this is going. You think I’m asking for too much. I shouldn’t gripe about the apathy of God if I truly valued humanity’s free will. You breathed life into our frail little bodies, gave us minds of our own, built us a playground, and then set us free. Well you know what? With all due respect, I’m not impressed. I just don’t understand the point of all of this.

Life on earth, you know? I mean, what the hell?

If what they say is true, then there’s a Heaven somewhere. It’s a place where you supposedly feel no pain. Death is nothing to fear in Heaven because you’ve already suffered enough and died for the final time. But what’s the point of pain, and what’s the point of death if we’re all truly destined for eternal bliss? People like to justify our mortality by claiming that God wants to teach us lessons that we’d never learn without first experiencing pain. Others try to convince you that God expects us to prove our worth before we can claim our right to stop the suffering. Still others conjecture that the physical and metaphysical universe is fragmented, and living a perfectly virtuous life will reconnect you to the greater whole. And the theories continue. To tell you the truth, I’ve never heard an explanation that satisfied me.

The more I think about suffering, the more I wonder why I can’t let go of that vision of the ideal universe in which God is both unconditionally loving, and unconditionally just. Why do we accept these assertions without questioning them? What proof do we really have of God’s infallibility? How in the hell are we supposed to be sure that God is more than just a sadist in the sky? The simple truth is we suffer by design. I wish I could understand the wisdom in this kind of creation.

GOD: I have faith that one day you will.

KEVIN: When do you suppose that will be? And since when did you conduct your affairs on the insistence of faith?

GOD: Oh, kid, you really do have a lot more to learn about me, don’t you?

KEVIN: I guess it was too much to expect a straightforward answer. I should have learned by now to just stop asking.

GOD: But where’s the fun in that?

Kevin: so what’s up with you?
Casey: went for a jog
Kevin: wow, at 3 in the morning? safe neighborhood?
Casey: our township is rated one of the safest in the US lol
Casey: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canton_Township,_Michigan
Casey: Based on statistics reported to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Canton was the nation’s 20th safest municipality with a population over 75,000 during 2003, 2004, 2005, and 2006
Casey: plus who’s gonna fuck with someone 6′4 and 270 lbs?
Kevin: a 6′5 dude who’s 271 lbs?
Casey: fuck
Kevin: didn’t think about that shit, did you? you’re lucky to be alive.
Casey: bish

Just beneath the banality of our boring and domestic daily experiences, our lives are predicated on a primal war for survival. If you have a hard time reconciling that fact to your own life, then try giving up food and water for a full day, and then reevaluating your worldview afterwards over a turkey sandwich and a Coke. Maybe a tofu sandwich and some wheatgrass for the vegetarians. Fortunately for those of us who don’t live in places of conflict in the world, the war for survival is waged with pillow fights and with foam covered Nerf bats. We’ve learned to ignore the inherent savagery of day-to-day life while it feebly kicks us in the shins. In this climate, our attention inevitably shifts from the war for survival, to the war on boredom.

The majority of our days are spent working someplace where we’d rather not be. For the rest of the time — our free time — we wile away the hours at home fighting boredom with all forms of distractions created by others to entertain us: television, books, blogs, music, video games. For most people, it’s enough simply to be entertained. Yet for some of us, prolonged exposure to any form of entertainment breeds restlessness, regret over lost time, and a nagging desire to create instead of consume. I know this feeling all too well.

As a writer, I should take the time to appreciate the creative efforts of others, if only to avoid becoming that lout at the party who interrupts everybody without waiting his turn to speak, and without listening to what everybody else has to say. Yet every time I sit down to read or to enjoy somebody else’s creative efforts, I inevitably think to myself: “You could be creating something worth remembering, too, if you would only stop wasting your time.” Boredom has a funny way of swirling the mind with its pesky contradictions and its appeals to one’s vanity. I’m just one of those people who was never smart enough to figure out that free time is a commodity that was meant to be wasted.

With the imminent fear of death and starvation held steadily at bay, it’s amazing to think of all the trivial things that the mind can allow itself to view as urgent. The war for survival has devolved from what was once a fearsome, roaring beast, into a passive aggressive, elderly old aunt who guilts you into giving her rides to the airport every day. In my little sanitized corner of the globe, modern life affords me the peace of mind to live a soft, comfortable life punctuated by modest intervals of free time. Yet during those free hours, I sweat over silly things like whether I have it in me to write that novel I’ve been working on for eight years, or whether I’m even capable of writing another blog entry worth reading. With so many people in the world with real problems, it occurs to me that the only reason that I care about such frivolous concerns is because they happen to be my own.

Boredom is the best and the worst gift my free time has ever given to me. It compels me to action through unease and anxiety, yet it also sours my creative spirit with crushing cynicism. Sometimes I wonder whether boredom is just another weapon that the war for survival uses to wield against us. There’s an odd sort of romance to that kind of thought.

This just broke my heart. I checked my blog’s visitor statistics from over the weekend and took note of visitor number 1001. Somebody in Saudi Arabia found my blog through a Google search for “arab booty and big dicks”. Piqued by curiosity, I clicked around and followed the referring URL. Visitor 1001 found my blog on page 51 of his Google search. I guess no matter who you are and where you’re from, sometimes the call for booty is just too loud to ignore. I assure you, though, there is none of that to be found around here. Whoever you are out there my Saudi Arabian friend, I hope you find what you’re looking for.