Friends, it only got worse from there!
I don't know how to begin, but after a number of years in this predicament, I ended up working in a bookstore, which at first seemed to be a perfectly ideal scenario. The reality of it, the reality of working in a bookstore, of the 21st century, however, bit me once more!
You would not even begin to believe the horrors possible in a 21st century bookstore. To give you an idea, a bookstore, and apparently these people took great pride in distinguishing between larger and smaller ones, independently-owned and national establishments, was operated and patroned by the very opposite species of man you would previously have imagined. I can't describe it any differently and not cause you to fall into convulsions!
Those who worked in them didn't care about books, and those who shopped in them couldn't seem to have bothered learning anything about books! It was as if these bookstores had been completely abandoned by anyone who might have found them useful, and left to those who could only fidget around, bumping into one another and demanding instant gratification, ignoring all reason, all semblance of intellect, and generally behaving as if the bookstore were anything but a place of general enlightenment!
How exactly does a bookstore become so removed from the basest of concepts one might associate with academia? When academia itself has failed the population, and when that has happened, the blind masses abandon all hope and revert to their worst impulses, even, yes, in a bookstore. I cannot say how this was allowed to happen! But all the same, friends, I assure you that this was my authentic experience, not some wild dream or hallucination, despite what others have told you.
I can't remember how exactly I escaped, only that I did, or perhaps it might be said that indeed I did wake up. I don't mean to confuse you, but I beg you, don't ever repeat my mistakes! Learn! Keep learning! If this whole episode how sounded curious to you, I hope it only spurs your curiosity!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Yoti's Dream, Part III
One of the many rituals of this society was the acquiring of a license to drive what they routinely used for personal transportation, what they called an automobile in so many words.
One would suspect that this would be a fairly routine matter, but friends, one would be wrong! They created all manner of rules and regulations, to the point where it was almost easier to avoid the whole mess entirely, except that in many ways, you would most certainly been an outcast without one of these cars at your disposal.
This license was something you were expected to study for, incredibly, at the very same time you were attending classes. If you didn't get it then, you would probably be very sorry. I cannot begin to explain, without lengthy details that will only bore you beyond comprehension. As if I were not straining credulity already!
The short version of the process for obtaining this license is that you were to study all the rules you would be expected to follow, and then take a road test, where you were to demonstrate your ability to just that. I will not repeat that. This was the way it was really done! There were many people on the road who blatantly ignored all those rules, who nonetheless had gotten their licenses, presumably by faking their normal behavior for the purposes of passing the test. Can you imagine! The only way these people were then corrected was by random and very seldomly-administered citations. I am not making it up!
Those who weren't so good at taking tests, well, it was very hard for them indeed!
I can't dwell on this subject for too long, and doubtless you prefer it that way. How did these people survive so long? Ironically enough, I would suggest by sheer accident!
One would suspect that this would be a fairly routine matter, but friends, one would be wrong! They created all manner of rules and regulations, to the point where it was almost easier to avoid the whole mess entirely, except that in many ways, you would most certainly been an outcast without one of these cars at your disposal.
This license was something you were expected to study for, incredibly, at the very same time you were attending classes. If you didn't get it then, you would probably be very sorry. I cannot begin to explain, without lengthy details that will only bore you beyond comprehension. As if I were not straining credulity already!
The short version of the process for obtaining this license is that you were to study all the rules you would be expected to follow, and then take a road test, where you were to demonstrate your ability to just that. I will not repeat that. This was the way it was really done! There were many people on the road who blatantly ignored all those rules, who nonetheless had gotten their licenses, presumably by faking their normal behavior for the purposes of passing the test. Can you imagine! The only way these people were then corrected was by random and very seldomly-administered citations. I am not making it up!
Those who weren't so good at taking tests, well, it was very hard for them indeed!
I can't dwell on this subject for too long, and doubtless you prefer it that way. How did these people survive so long? Ironically enough, I would suggest by sheer accident!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Yoti's Dream, Part II
Scarcely had I arrived, and in a far younger body than I would previously have guessed, but friends, I found myself remanded to an academic academy. I will spare you all the details about the foster homes, the foster families, the indignity of not being accepted for the independent individual I knew I was. It was in the school where I suffered the worst horrors.
Can you imagine...! Each class seemed to demand greater and greater amounts of my time, not simply what could be experienced with the teacher actually present, but assignments meant to strengthen the knowledge I was supposed to gain. This would have been excellent, if the teacher attempted to teach any of their subject at all, rather than fixate on the same details day after day, repeating what we were supposed to do at home, and then punishing us if we failed to understand how any of it was supposed to matter. There were plenty of subjects with required reading, the memorizing of material needed to pass tests and graduate at the end of the year.
Friends, I tell you the worst of it was the literature classes! Somehow these teachers had gotten it into their heads that their books were just the same as the textbooks in History or Science, that if we simply read at the established pace and listened to all the required interpretations, not only would we end up appreciating these books, we would eagerly invite the same experience on our personal time. As if there were such a thing! This was not a time to use our free moments repeating the dreaded exercises of the classroom, but for rebellion!
Rebellion! What else is youth for! Except to learn the drudgery that awaits us in maturity! Books had always been a refuge for me, before this trip through time, and yet, experiencing this notion of how one was supposed to appreciate them, made books less friends and more a source of endless misery. There was no sense of universal understanding in these stories, unless that sense was defiance! Burn all the books!
For years and years I was caught in this loop. I thought it would never end!
Can you imagine...! Each class seemed to demand greater and greater amounts of my time, not simply what could be experienced with the teacher actually present, but assignments meant to strengthen the knowledge I was supposed to gain. This would have been excellent, if the teacher attempted to teach any of their subject at all, rather than fixate on the same details day after day, repeating what we were supposed to do at home, and then punishing us if we failed to understand how any of it was supposed to matter. There were plenty of subjects with required reading, the memorizing of material needed to pass tests and graduate at the end of the year.
Friends, I tell you the worst of it was the literature classes! Somehow these teachers had gotten it into their heads that their books were just the same as the textbooks in History or Science, that if we simply read at the established pace and listened to all the required interpretations, not only would we end up appreciating these books, we would eagerly invite the same experience on our personal time. As if there were such a thing! This was not a time to use our free moments repeating the dreaded exercises of the classroom, but for rebellion!
Rebellion! What else is youth for! Except to learn the drudgery that awaits us in maturity! Books had always been a refuge for me, before this trip through time, and yet, experiencing this notion of how one was supposed to appreciate them, made books less friends and more a source of endless misery. There was no sense of universal understanding in these stories, unless that sense was defiance! Burn all the books!
For years and years I was caught in this loop. I thought it would never end!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Yoti's Dream, Part I
I swear to you friends, I have not fabricated a thing about the tale I'm about to unfold, unbelievable though most of it will be. They did warn you about time travel in school, though, so you'll have to at least keep that in mind. The only thing is, they never warned you about this...
Again, I must urge caution. This is not a dream, though in years to come you will no doubt tell your kids it was. I would rather believe that myself, and perhaps in time, I'll believe it exactly that way. For now, though, know that it's all real, it's all true.
You see, I traveled back to the 21st century. I know! They warned about that time period plenty of times, quite specifically! But like the ignorant snot I was, I never believed them. Couldn't be true. Exactly what I'm trying to tell you now. I found out the hard way.
Now, I don't know how many of you have ever taken a time trip, but one of the first things you'll learn when you do is that it will definitely play tricks on you. The you that you find at your destination won't exactly be the one you were when you left. I mean, specifically, that you'll seem younger. I was thirty years old when I left, but I found that, physically, I was a great deal younger on the other side. I was a boy of thirteen! Can you believe it? Those of you who have never done it, of course you won't. It sounds like nonsense!
But it was true all the same, and believe me, being thirteen in the 21st century was not exactly the ideal. I don't want to get into it too quickly, the grim details will come soon enough, so I don't want to outright shock you. There's no need. It's better this way, trust me.
But it was shock enough, just me finding myself that age again! I was well past it when I'd left, enough that it was a distant memory, but a more or less clear one all the same. I hadn't been eager to revisit it! But then, I didn't have much say in the matter. There I was, just emerged, and already struggling to adjust!
It would only get worse from there.
Again, I must urge caution. This is not a dream, though in years to come you will no doubt tell your kids it was. I would rather believe that myself, and perhaps in time, I'll believe it exactly that way. For now, though, know that it's all real, it's all true.
You see, I traveled back to the 21st century. I know! They warned about that time period plenty of times, quite specifically! But like the ignorant snot I was, I never believed them. Couldn't be true. Exactly what I'm trying to tell you now. I found out the hard way.
Now, I don't know how many of you have ever taken a time trip, but one of the first things you'll learn when you do is that it will definitely play tricks on you. The you that you find at your destination won't exactly be the one you were when you left. I mean, specifically, that you'll seem younger. I was thirty years old when I left, but I found that, physically, I was a great deal younger on the other side. I was a boy of thirteen! Can you believe it? Those of you who have never done it, of course you won't. It sounds like nonsense!
But it was true all the same, and believe me, being thirteen in the 21st century was not exactly the ideal. I don't want to get into it too quickly, the grim details will come soon enough, so I don't want to outright shock you. There's no need. It's better this way, trust me.
But it was shock enough, just me finding myself that age again! I was well past it when I'd left, enough that it was a distant memory, but a more or less clear one all the same. I hadn't been eager to revisit it! But then, I didn't have much say in the matter. There I was, just emerged, and already struggling to adjust!
It would only get worse from there.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
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