Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“Dane, the only thing more ridiculous than your assumption is the fact that I do know how to use a sword.”

“Then it’s settled, swords it is. I’ll go procure them.”

Leaning over the banister just outside my door, I watched Dane go down the stairs and out the door. Then there was noise below, a lot, from Alyona’s. I was tired but I wanted to see what was going on, maybe grab that pendant so I could later get it to Traci. I changed my mind when I got halfway down the stairs. I went back up and inside. What I saw from those stairs changed my mind. A hulking blue figure flashing into that apartment and sealing the door behind it.

Back inside I visually drifted to the picture Traci had drawn on the window with her lovely digit. Because I had opened the window the once-sharp condensation lines had blurred, although they continued to exist in a way that made an identification at least theoretically possible. I looked at them but nothing came forward. Just meaningless lines without apparent form.

I stared.

Then it clicked. I saw precisely the image Traci intended. How strange. And then that thing happened where it became impossible for me to look at that window and see a different image or even no image at all.

“Christ Cleary, that’s precisely what I’m saying. Why doesn’t your pleasant fiction of a religion account for the Saturday between Easter and Good Friday? This is our life!”

“How do you mean, Deborah?”

“Well, as I understand it, Good Friday is a big deal right? A very sad day where you Christians reflect upon the crucifixion, death, and all other sorts of maudlin subjects. Two days later you have Easter, a joyous, bright day. Misery followed by bliss but what about the Saturday in between? Nothing. No fancy name.”

“Holy Saturday.”

“No fancy name that stuck, no reflections, no feel whatsoever. No meaningful commemoration of any kind and yet this Saturday is the day that most accurately reflects what our lives are like. After all, the majority of our days are spent in neither splendid bliss nor abject misery but rather in a state between those two extremes. A boring state where nothing much seems to happen but which is life’s bread and butter. If you want to look at why your religion engages less and less people every year, ask yourself why this critical day is essentially ignored. I say celebrate and name the day, make it the celebratory centerpiece, and you’ll take a significant step towards addressing our real concerns. Maybe get some people to come back.”

“I completely disagree.”

“What a surprise Conley.”

“I’m serious. One of the painfully few things Cleary and his sort get right is ignoring that day. I kind of agree that the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter reflects the majority of our lives but it does that by being completely meaningless and thus should be entirely ignored. Take Casi here as an example. You’ve all heard that he’s gotten himself into a bit of a pickle here. So what? I bet he’ll never even remember any of this when all is written and done. How old are you Casi?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Exactly. He’s middle-aged, a meaningless stage of life that nobody remembers.”

“What are you talking about middle-aged? He’s a kid. Middle-aged is like you, fifty or so.”

“Really? Let’s say the average male in this country lives to seventy-two. If that’s the case then ages 0 to 23 represent youth, 24 to 47 are your middle ages, and 48 to 72 your senescent decline into death.”

“That’s absurd. But fine, even if we allow you to define the term middle-aged in that way, why would it follow that whatever happens during this time period is meaningless?”

“Good God! Must I forever be the world’s instructor? Do the terms Primacy and Recency mean anything to you? The human brain processes information a certain way. The things that come first, i.e. primacy, and the things that come last, i.e. recency, are the things that will stick in the human head. The rest is part of the forgotten middle. In a brief, where do you put the damaging admissions? In the middle! If placed in a lineup and given the choice of where to stand where should you stand? In the middle! These are not my usual unsupported ramblings, these are well-settled principles. In sum, Cleary is right to ignore that Saturday. Where he errs is when he tries to tell us that the Friday and Sunday are meaningful. No way. This, our world, is just a giant theatre, showing Life, a poor play written by a middling playwright featuring repellent and insipid actors that will close within the week. Friday doesn’t matter because Sunday is a scam and because of that, Saturday, id est our lives, couldn’t possibly mean less. You’re also wrong Debi when you try to paint our lives as this boring but ultimately benign even pleasant endeavor. Life, even at its best, is a tedious chore. For the overwhelming majority it’s Good Friday every day. If you disagree chances are you’re the sort who doesn’t pay attention, because life is hideous if you do. The things you have to see and otherwise experience will sap the joy right out of you. You start out shitting in a diaper, dependent on random lunatics to cart your shit away and fill your belly. You have no control over anything, can’t even speak! Then at the end, where I am, you feel like a giant bruise that won’t heal, your knees make more noise than your mouth, family members become strangers far as your memory can tell, and you resume shitting in a diaper. And in between? Well I already told you what I think about that. Life isn’t sweet, it’s sour, and that’s what keeps Cleary in business. Those are your choices, boredom or agony. Life is nasty, malevolent, toxic, evil, and brutish. And you know the worst part? The part that really sticks in my craw, whatever a craw is.”

“What?”

“It’s too short.”

“Forgive me dude cause I’m a sinner.”

“Well forgive me but I highly doubt the word dude is involved.”

“Seriously.”

“Fine. Forgive me padre because—”

“Father.”

“Forgive me Father because I’m a sinner, something along those lines.”

“I’m a sinner?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so, that doesn’t sound right.”

“What doesn’t sound right?”

“Sinner, that word. Don’t think that’s the right word.”

“I think she’s right. I don’t think you have to make a blanket generalization like that about being a sinner and all. I think you just have to indicate that you are going to sin dude, I mean Father.”

“Going to sin? You mean that you’ve previously sinned right?”

“Right.”

“What if you haven’t?”

“Haven’t what?”

“Haven’t sinned.”

“If you haven’t sinned then what the fuck are you doing there?”

“Exactly.”

“See I don’t think that’s right. I think the point, or at least one of the points, is that you can always go because you’re always sinning whether you know it or not.”

“What kind of insane crap is that?”

“Yeah, what kind?”

“I’m just saying, I didn’t make it up.”

“Just ask Cleary, he’ll know for sure. It’s his job.”

“Yeah ask Cleary.”

“Forget Cleary, we don’t need his help.”

“Yeah forget him.”

“Fine so you say something like look I’ve sinned eighteen or whatever times and I’m here to confess .”