The Utopian Flu

Let’s see what can be done about something. I had started to write a, um, sentence —

Personal property! What could be finer! What could be miner!

Now and then, and now and then I get a little tinge of longing, a little bit of utopian what-do-you-call-it, it’s like the utopian flu? Do you ever get the utopian flu? It comes and goes. There’s nothing you can do to treat it. It comes and goes, in about twenty-four hours usually. But it’s really fascinating, really great, very interesting really — and if you talk about it, it makes it worse.

It’s better to just keep it to yourself, try not to spread it around.

So, the utopian flu. I think most people have had it. They’re up to here with it. You start thinking about how things would be if they were different. How would things be if they were different? Hmmmmm.

Different, I suppose!

 

Yes, yes, don’t you see! That’s what I’m trying to say. Think of how different things would be.

Yes! I see what you mean now! How different things would be if they were different.

 

It’s nothing to get alarmed about, though, the utopian flu. It works itself out. You get distracted, by whatever, and go about your business. I try to like learn though. It’s true, I was told, that there are only about 400 different colds: 400 different cold-bearing viral bacteria germs, that exist. Total. At all. And so you’ll probably have only about 400 colds in your lifetime, max.

That doesn’t sound like as many when you think about, but that’s five a year. Five colds a year is a lot. But the thing about there only being a finite number of colds is that you can only get each cold one time, and then you are immune to it. You have to get a different cold next time. You can’t really get the same cold twice.

People say, This makes no sense, because I’ve lived with people and had a cold, and I gave them the cold, and then I got it back, and I swear it was the same exact cold it had the same exact symptoms, and to them I say, Take it up with the crazy guy who told me this. I agree with you, it doesn’t make sense to me either. It’s a very hopeful idea though, isn’t it?

 

But let’s get back to the utopian flu. So what if we just didn’t have personal property? Just ever. What if we just never went that way. Wouldn’t that be nice? Everything is just everyone’s at all times, yay. Do you need a car? Have a car! Are you hungry? Have some food! It’s yours. No, we’re not greedy; we’ve never heard of greed; we never had anything that wasn’t already ours. And yours.

Can you imagine, when they make the first of something, on the assembly line? In the land of no personal property, here comes the first brand new amazing example of — I guess the leg-shaving machine is the obvious first thing that comes to mind. And everyone who wants their leg shaved is just waiting there in line.

line water: I think I might go thirtieth—on the first one. And by the time they get to one hundred they probably will have made two!

radiation: Well, why didn’t they make two yet?

different line waiter: What are you complaining about? You can’t make two until you make one.

 

Six thousand people are in the factory parking lot:

Why is he ahead of me in line?

He got here first.

Oh. Well that makes sense. (pause) Can I get here first next time?

If you want.

Well, what are you making next?

A beard trimmer.

Hmmm.

 

 

 

 

PS: Why do bad things happen to good people? Because they haven’t read my blog yet!