Minority Reports

                         Minority Report

I’ve never seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I don’t enjoy sunshine.

High-overcast days do it for me.

I love the fog.

Brussels sprouts are my favourite vegetable.

I avoid listening to singing.

Catchy, well-loved tunes annoy me.

The last time I watched the Oscars was in 1961.

I haven’t watched the Simpsons since the mid-nineties.

I haven’t watched prime-time TV in years.

I’ve never watched The Flight of the Conchords.

I’ve never watched Dr Who.

The last time I partied past midnight on New Years’ Eve

was when I was in high school.

I avoid purely social situations if possible.

Daylight savings time irritates the hell out of me.

I like my hamburgers without onion.

I prefer to watch delayed telecasts of sporting events

because I like to know in advance who won.

My mother didn’t love me.

I drink beer only as a complement to certain food,

and wine primarily just to get blotto.

I prefer soup or coffee or stir-fries tepid rather than piping hot.

I usually go to sleep in the afternoon

and wake up in the middle of the night.

I reflexively apply rigorous analysis and an aesthetic sensibility

to even the most mundane domestic tasks.

I don’t enjoy pageantry or ceremony.

Summer is my least favourite season.

Kittens don’t seem cute to me.

Chocolate doesn’t do it for me at all.

I compose and perform stuff like this.

             Minority Report Update: Icons of Popular Culture

Every day on facebook

I read postings and comments,

and view images from media productions,

plus photos of various actors and pop stars

and other international celebrities,

usually with supposedly witty copy

superimposed within the frame.

The people who’ve posted these

have apparently just unquestioningly assumed

that everybody who reads or sees them

will automatically recognise them,

along with the undoubtedly rich tapestries

of associations and connotations involved,

as easily and thoroughly as they would

with images of their own family members.

I wouldn’t be able to distinguish most of them

from the names and pictures of Peruvian plumbers.

Minority Report Update: Covers

When I sleep away from home,

it always strikes me as foreign

that the motel, hotel, or whatever,

and indeed a woman artist

with whom I had a brief affair,

insist on tucking the top sheet

and even the blanket

tightly under the mattress.

It’s difficult for me to sleep

if I can’t wrap my covers around me

and between my legs,

cocooning cosily,

every time I shift my position,

which tends to be often.

I’m just not into bondage,

but most people apparently are,

with bed covers at least.

Minority Report Update: Microsoft, the Market, and Me

Even though the word

technology

originally meant

the application of knowledge toward practical goals,

consumers of digital products

increasingly think of them as toys

instead of as tools,

so their designers and marketers

have increasingly come to treat their targets

as the mindless, malleable children –

won over to enthusiasm

by anything that amazes them –

that most of them

seem content to be.

I strongly dislike being treated that way,

myself,

but Microsoft’s programmers don’t give a shit.

Minority Report Update: Spectatorship

Most people,

it seems to me,

really can’t enjoy

watching a sporting event

unless they’re backing

one of the teams or competitors.

Most people,

it seems to me,

find great pleasure

in the suspense involved

with watching their favoured

team or competitor

engaged in a tight contest,

with the outcome always in doubt.

I prefer matches, though,

in which I don’t give a shit who wins.

If, for some reason,

such as the locality represented

or some manner of acquaintanceship,

I do have a preference

in regard to who wins,

I’d much rather watch a delayed telecast

so that I know the outcome in advance,

as the tension and suspense are forms of stress

that suit me not at all.

         Minority Report Update: Soap

The Mill Street Pak’n Save

discontinued stocking my preferred brand of soap,

I suppose because it wasn’t moving off the shelf fast enough,

making it effectively impossible

for me to buy soap without perfume in it

without spending half a day

riding and waiting for busses.

Perfumed soap significantly decreases

the pleasure I experience when showering,

thereby reducing my quality of life

just that much more.

Big fucken deal, eh?

               Some People & Me

Some people enjoy a good argument;

I’m neurotically conflict-averse.

Some people enjoy sitting out in the sun;

I’m a shade worshipper.

Some people are social drinkers;

When I’m drinking seriously, I usually drink alone.

Some people worry about other people’s sex lives;

I’m more likely to envy other people for having them.

Some people agonise over selecting the perfect wines

to complement their celebrity-chef meals;

I buy whatever red’s cheapest that week at the Pak’n Save.

Some people enjoy outdoor activities –

boating, riding, fishing, beach volleyball;

I’m a determined indoorsman.

Some people enjoy keeping up with the latest fashions;

for me, a shirt is new till I’ve had it for at least ten years.

Some people enjoy suspense,

but do their best to avoid underlying uncertainty in their lives;

suspense seems to me to be tedious or annoying,

but I’m fine-and-dandy comfortable

with uncertainty as an approach to the unknown.

Some people choose or otherwise live happiness;

happiness just doesn’t seem to be a part of who I am.

Some people worry about encountering death;

I worry about making it through life.

                        Some of the Things I’m Not

I’m not a self-starter or a go-getter.

I’m not an automotive enthusiast.

I’m not religious.

I’m not able to use chopsticks.

I’m not a film buff.

I’m not socially or personally aggressive.

I’m not an outdoorsman.

I’m not comfortable going to gigs anymore.

I’m not violent.

I’m not an opera-lover or a heavy-metal fan.

I’m not gregarious.

I’m not a smooth operator.

I’m not favourably impressed by people who pretend to have expertise about things that they really know nothing about.

I’m not into bondage.

I’m not a war veteran.

I’m not a gull for such faith-based bullshit as astrology and homeopathy.

I’m not comfortable when I have to be enterprising.

I’m not as young as I used to be.

I’m not particularly skilled with my hands.

I’m not the way I seem to be in person.

I’m not someone who enjoys a good argument.

I’m not a country boy.

I’m not part of the luxury-goods market.

I’m not cruel.

I’m not in love with life.

I’m not an American, despite my accent.

I’m not a lounge lizard.

I’m not happy with the way things’ve been going in general.

I’m not kidding.