For the past couple weeks, a political activist has been recruiting me to his cause--to purge the corrupt government in Utah and the nation. It has been both stressful and entertaining.
The first time I talked to him, the long-winded pest woke me up from a nap and took an hour and 15 minutes of my sleepy time to talk about Bramble's evils. At the 45-minute mark, I informed him that I had been taking a nap and wanted to get back to it, but he didn't get the hint--too subtle, I guess. In the end, all he wanted was my email address so he could add me to a political discussion group. I gave it to him, immediately setting a filter to route all the emails to their own little folder where they are out of the way. I actually read all the emails but with a healthy dose of skepticism.
He has some crazy stories about Bramble. My guess is that they have at least some basis in fact, and I think Bramble needs to be exposed for the creep he seems to be. However, I have only my one experience with the pompous senator and will not pass on hearsay that I cannot verify, especially since I suspect personal injury affects my informant's rationality.
Mr. Pesky Crusader called me repeatedly last week and emailed me when I didn't answer my phone for the third or fourth time. I told him I would call him the next day, but that, if he was going to talk my ear off, it would be on my time and not in the mornings before I get up or on Saturday night when I am busy having a social life. (I wasn't actually busy having a social life on Saturday night--I was preparing my Sunday School lesson--but, as I am 24 and single, I should have been at the movies or playing mini golf or something. No need to tell him that, though.) He wrote, "I mean to be very sensitive to your time needs. My first calls to people often go long because there is so much history that most people have never heard of." Lies! My phone call with him the next day was even longer than the first!
Then, last night, he wanted to meet me in person. Jellyfish that I am, I agreed. He said he likes to meet people face to face so they can decide whether to work with him or say, "This is not the man I talked to on the phone." Little did he think seeing him in the flesh would convince me that he is delusional.
The most ridiculous part of the evening:
"There's someone I want you to meet. Are you familiar with 9/11 Truth Theory?"
"I don't know the details, but I've heard of it." The theory posits that US government operatives blew up the World Trade Center to incite a war with the Arab nations.
"What do you think of it?"
"Well, my father is one of the most respected metallurgists in the country, and he wrote the definitive article on the collapse of the World Trade Center. And I tend to trust my father." Apparently, he didn't get the hint. Too subtle again?
He introduced me to Steven Jones, the ex-BYU physics professor and leading proponent of 9/11 Truth Theory (I can't decide what to link to, so just Google him), who immediately connected me to my father.
"Your father and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things."
"I'm aware." I miraculously refrained from saying, "That's because my father is a rational man and you are a fool."
"You say hi to your father for me. And tell him I was a bishop, too."
Brilliant. Way to win me over to your cause.
I have always considered myself much like my father, for good and for bad. At this moment, I became aware that my recent experiences have established one more commonality: people will listen to me because I am smart and honest, and I can trust myself enough to handle the criticisms and personal attacks from people who disagree with me. Another breakthrough to discuss in therapy!
Current songs: all of the London Calling album by The Clash, but "Guns of Brixton" in particular