Dear Amritsar,
I was perusing the Girls with Eyepatches Web site last week when the most ext - oh, don't look at me like I just admitted to eating a dead horse or being a Tea Party Democrat or, for that matter, eating a dead Tea Party Democrat. Depriving a woman of the sight in one of her eyes is a feminist reexamination of who controls the gaze. Look her in the eye. Go ahead - I dare you! Not only that, but it redefines the beauty myth for the new golden age of pira -
Oh, who am I kidding? Girls with eyepatches are hot!
Things got hot and heavy in the discussion area (are images of celebrities with Photoshopped eyepatches cool? especially when the eyepatches are obviously, umm, unrealistically big?) and I was hitting the keys with wild abandon when, without warning, my computer screen went totally white and beams of light streamed into my eyeballs. It only lasted a second, then everything went back to normal. Only, everything had changed.
It's hard to describe, but I...I understood everything. Everything. I knew why Job had to go through all those trials (it had to do with using the wrong antiperspirant). I understood the Grand Unified Theory of Everything - and I had flunked grade three math! I understood the behaviour of Charlie Sheen - and I had stopped watching Two and a Half Men after two and a half seasons!
Unfortunately, I also understood everything about the people around me. Eeeeeverything. I understood how many times my girlfriend had cheated on me, with which men and how they used the office equipment. I understood what my mother was really doing when she spent some "private time" in her sewing room. I understood what the beer the guy in the football stadium who sat next to me was guzzling was doing to his liver. In graphic detail.
I don't know that I'll ever get over that one.
Of course, I understood what had happened to me: using Microsquish's latest operating system (Codename: Butch), I accidentally hit the key combination that gave me universal enlightenment. And, I don't want it! So, I spent several hours listening to Glen Campbell's entire musical repertoire sung in Swedish waiting for somebody from Microsquish to help me get rid of it. When I finally got through to a customer disservice representative, she told me that the best she could do was offer me a coupon for 15 per cent off my next purchase of any Microsquish product. I wanted to be angry with her, to yell and scream about how unhelpful the help line was, but I understood that she was full of self-loathing because of what her job forced her to do, and I didn't feel good about adding to her misery.
The only thing I do not know is what keyboard shortcut I used to become enlightened. Is there any way you can find out which key combination and/or order I pressed so that I can undo it?
the krishna comedian
Hey, Babe,
Apparently, there is a shortcut to enlightenment! Who knew?
I spoke to an engineer at Microsquish (writing for a transdimensional news organization offers perks that even complete spiritual enlightenment doesn't!), who told me that what happened to you is a bug, not a feature. He had no idea how you did it. Sorry. Oh, and Microsquish management would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell people what happened - if everybody could find enlightenment on their own, nobody would need to go to church...or buy the next software upgrade. Imagine the chaos!
The way I see it, you have two options. With your current understanding of the nature of reality, you could start your own religion. An unexpectedly powerful keyboard shortcut is not the strangest basis for a global belief system - not by a long shot.
If that doesn't suit your temperament, you could always become an online stock market analyst. Of course, you'd have to lie about what you knew about 73 per cent of the time, lest people become suspicious that you have inside information (trust me - they wouldn't believe how inside your information is!). Still, the pay can be very good, and you can take vacations, unlike religious prophets, who are pretty much on call for their entire lives.
Enlightenment is a bitch. And, then...you know.
Send your relationship problems to the Alternate Reality News Service's sex, love and technology columnist at questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Amritsar Al-Falloudjianapour is not a trained therapist, but she does know a lot of stuff. AMRITSAR SAYS: When I say, "I see your point, now allow me to raise with an informed opinion," I am not actually agreeing with you.