"Time enough at last!"

Class is in session, people! Let's all read through these quaint song lyrics & see how I was able to score in the 99th percentile on the vobulary section of the State of California's annual standardized tests for grades K-12...by looking up every word I didn't know in the lyrics of the three albums that constitute Bad Religion's "classic" period. Well, that & reading like I was that guy on The Twilight Zone.

"1,000 More Fools"
I heard them say that the meek shall reign on earth,
Phantasmal myriads of sane bucolic birth.
I've seen the rapture in a starving baby's eyes,
Inchoate beatitude, the Lord of the Flies.
So what does it mean when your mind starts to stray? Kaleidoscoping images of love on the way.
Brother you'd better get down on your knees and pray. 1,000 more fools are being born every fucking day.
They try to tell me that the lamb is on the way,
With microwave transmissions they bombard us every day.
The masses are obsequious, contented in their sleep.
The vortex of their minds ensconsed within the murky deep.
So what does it mean when your mind starts to stray? Kaleidoscoping images of love on the way.
Brother you'd better get down on your knees and pray. 1,000 more fools are being born every fucking day.

"Get Off"
lascivious, it's all that i can think of as i drag my feet, searching like Diogenes,
dangerous, the adjectives of the decade and of your alluring intricacies,
i can see your green-screen mentality and i feel the sting of its consequence,
and i know i shouldn't but it's too much to ignore, an emotion i deplore,
every time i look at you, i just want to do it, i can clench my fist right through it but i just want to get off,
rectilinear, this direction we've been heading never realizing we are on a runaway machine, angular, the momentum that does turn us one step further on our ladder, one more turn toward the east,
yes i realize your green-screen mentality and i know it's shared by many more,
i know it's quite impossible but i'm damned to find a way to revolve the other way,
every time i scrutinize i just say "screw it",we're on a ride down a blind conduit and i just want to get off

"I Want To Conquer The World"
Hey Brother Christian with your high and might errand,Your actions speak so loud, I can't hear a word you're saying.
Hey Sister Bleeding Heart with all of your compassion,Your labors soothe the hurt but can't assuage temptation.
Hey man of science with your perfect rules of measure,Can you improve this place with the data that you gather?
Hey Mother Mercy can your loins bear fruit forever?Is your fecundity a trammel or a treasure?And I want to conquer the world,
Give all the idiots a brand new religion,
Put an end to poverty, uncleanliness and toil,
Promote equality in all my decisions
With a quick wink of the eye, And a "God you must be joking!"
Hey Mr. Diplomat with your worldly aspirations,Did you see the children cry when you left them at the station?
Hey moral soldier you've got righteous proclamation,And precious tomes to fuel your pulpy conflagrations.
And I want to conquer the world,
Give all the idiots a brand new religion,
Put an end to poverty, uncleanliness and toil,
Promote equality in all of my decisions
I want to conquer the world,
Expose the culprits and feed them to the children,
I'll do away with air pollution and then all save the whales,
We'll have peace on earth and global communion.
I want to conquer the world!

OCD in the 323

When I was just a wee lad, knee-high to a grasshopper, I had a hang-up where if I touched something accidentally (like bumping my foot on a chair-leg, or brushing against a door-jamb as I walked through) I had make sure I touched it with the same body part three more times. That's four times total. Within a year, this little pecadillo faded away into memory.

But it was replaced by an uncomfortable preoccupation with not being turned around. This one's a little harder to explain; if I were to turn to my left, & keep turning until I was facing forward again, I would become extremely uncomfortable until I turned all the way around to my right & was subsequently re-aligned, or untangled, or whatever the hell I was. That one took a while be over & done with. But eventually it was a thing of the past.

Then I started up with something that still has me in it's grip, although in recent years it's been notably toned down. I started checking things. First it was the doors. I wanted to make sure they were closed all the way, & locked. No biggie, right? I was just being safety-conscious, right? It was a strange day when I mustered the lucidity to realize that getting up in the night to unlock & relock the door several times wasn't the standard fare for people in their early twenties. The point was driven home when I found myself checking the stove afterwards. Standing there in my dark & dirty kitchen, staring at the blue flames of the burners, turning them on & off, leaning down to see if I could smell gas, I knew that what I was doing was, in a word, STUPID...so why did I keep doing it?

And why do I check the front door now, sometimes unlocking & locking it until I like the way the click sounds. Sometimes I get out of my car again & re-check just to be sure. And sometimes I get halfway from my parking spot to work & have to go back & check if my car doors are locked. If it rains, I fight, I mean FIGHT, to keep from walking down to see if I left the windows of my truck open.

The isolated instances in all these years when I discovered an unlocked door made it all worth it.

Another little trick is setting the alarm clock so the minutes add up the hour. I know that sounds a bit Dali-esque, but it makes perfect sense upon cloder examination. Let's say it's 8:17. There! 1 & 7 add up to 8. What better time to get up? Or let's say you want to beat traffic. Well, how about getting up at 7:43? Or 7:34? Or even 6:51? I've tried to re-set my girlfriend's alarm clock this way but she's on to me. Hey, it used to be a lot worse...I used to only be able to get out of bed when the numbers added up.

Just for giggles, I did a perfunctory look-up online & found a self-administered test...the Yale-Brown Obsessive Compulsive Scale (Y-BOCS) that kindly explained to me that I was most likely experiencing "moderate" OCD. Now, let me be honest with you, dear reader, & admit that I probably would have scored lower, or "mild", but I didn't like the way it looked when I filled in the answer-bubbles that way.

That can't be a good sign.













I know I've only relayed the "compulsive" aspect of this little merry-go-round. I'll save the "obsessive" for a dark & stormy night. I mean, if I could just write about it here like it was no big deal, I wouldn't have to run around checking things & futzing with 'em like a freakin' maniac, now would I?