Dominic Laing

Two guys sit down behind me; one in his 40’s, another wandering through his 50’s, angry at God knows what, but God knows he’s angry.

Before they sit down, I hear the Angry Man kick out words like “pathetic” and “stupid,” both in the direction of his conversation partner.

I might call them friends, but then the Angry Man might turn at me and call me “pathetic” and “stupid” as well.

“Look at this,” spoken with the utmost venom, his finger hammering down upon a headline in the Los Angeles Times. “Just look at this…I told you, didn’t I? I told you.” The Angry Man spoke with anger about whatever this particular article had to say about its particular topic. “Write this name down. Write it down.” He read aloud the author of the piece, each syllable laced with Anger.

His rhythm reminds me of marching, reminds me of the firing of a gun, reminds me of the nails in a coffin.

I left the house because I had a headache. I bought a coffee with a gift card I’d received for Christmas and I sat outside with the intention of letting my mind wander.

And right now, all I can think about is the Angry Man behind me, and how no matter what I do, there are always going to be angry people, and they are always going to say angry things, and regardless of how slow or soft I speak, there’s going to be someone shouting, someone jamming their finger at the headline of an article as if planting a flag for their hate and rage, someone running on bile and fury and I won’t be able to stop any of it from happening.

Which was the wrong time to read an essay about infinity.

II

Anthony Aguirre wrote the essay, featured in the book Future Science. I don’t understand three-quarters of the essay, but it sounds as if he makes a very logical, step-by-step argument for the possibility of the existence of an infinite universe, as well as infinite sub-universes created in its wake.

I try to remember an idea about a short story I wanted to write. It’d be fast; flash fiction. Less than 750 words. Maybe 500 words.

Parrots, you see.

A certain breed of parrots were, at some point in the Way-Back-When, brought to the local Arboretum. The parrots, what with their wings and habit of flying, migrated to Pasadena. Now and then, you will hear squawking. And if you decide to look up, you’ll see green parrots perched on telephone wires.

I saw four parrots side-by-side-by-side-by-side on New Year’s Morning. Perfect blue sky behind them, their plumage must’ve made quite an impression in my mind.

Because then I thought about what they’d say to each other.

First and foremost, of course, would be “Happy New Year.”

III

Coincidentally, I looked up a few hours after my experience with the Angry Man. In the sky, against the Perfect Blue, skywriters spelled out “Happy New Year 2012.”

Within ten seconds, the smoke had already drifted to the point of making the text unreadable. Had I looked up fifteen seconds later, all I would’ve seen was smoke. I might’ve mistaken it for a cloud.

IV

I walked to Vroman’s Bookstore and picked up a Moleskin Journal. I started writing down what books I want to read. This marks the first time I’ve put together a book list, but I have to start somewhere. I have to start putting down all the thoughts and randomness down somewhere.

A Book List is one example of me trying to communicate. If only back to myself.

V

Seth Godin has a great blog. Far better than mine. He’s knocking it out of the park.

Two blogs of his I read as of late; “The Chance of a Lifetime,” and “The Artificiality of Time.”

Yeah, I know. Again with the ‘time’ thing.

From TCOAL:

The thing is, we still live in a world that’s filled with opportunity. In fact, we have more than an opportunity — we have an obligation. An obligation to spend our time doing great things. To find ideas that matter and to share them. To push ourselves and the people around us to demonstrate gratitude, insight, and inspiration. To take risks and to make the world better by being amazing.

Are these crazy times? You bet they are. But so were the days when we were doing duck-and-cover air-raid drills in school, or going through the scares of Three Mile Island and Love Canal. There will always be crazy times.

 So stop thinking about how crazy the times are, and start thinking about what the crazy times demand.

There has never been a worse time for business as usual.

And from TAOT:

Until the transcontinental railroad, there were no time zones. Each village kept its own time, based on its own steeple and its own high noon. And why not? There was no good reason to go through the pain of coordinating the clocks.

Factory work forced us all to know exactly what time it was. The shift couldn’t start until the foreman and the workers were ready to go. Synchronicity paid big dividends, so we embraced it.

This notion of lockstep started to inform all elements of our culture. Not just what time rush hour was (what a bizarre concept) but how old you should be to go to college and to get a job and to get married and to have kids and to retire.

The web is asynchronous…Celebrate New Year’s when you want to, and as often as you choose. They’re your resolutions, not ours.

VI

And all at once, I’m thinking about the infinite number of the infinite sub-universes, and all the multiple versions of me and my headaches. And all at once, I’m thinking of the infinite number of Angry Men. And all at once, I’m thinking about the infinite number of Green Parrots. And all at once, I’m thinking of what Green Parrots have to do with helping the Angry Man deal with the source of his Rage. And all at once, I’m thinking about that one dream I had where I looked out the window of a plane and saw a cloud of hummingbirds floating by our side. And all at once, I’m thinking about all the different things that could happen at any point in the day, that something different could be done.

But it would have to be done on purpose. With intention and aim.

VII

I’m going to read Seth’s blog.

I’m going to keep making a Book List and I’m going to follow through on them.

I’m going to write that story about the Green Parrots.

I’m going to ask the Angry Man, whoever he is, to calm down, even if just for a moment.

And I’m going to look up.

It’s a start. And an end. And all at once…