We Cashed In

We cashed in, didn't we, we Americans, on a peculiar tipping point--speaking of tipping points--in economic and intellectual history. For industrialism, didn't we present a pragmatic answer to the whole royalty problem--the goal of pragmatism being to, simply, gain? Europe's pursuit of imaginary and utopian problems, their frustration with kings and prince, couldn't match the clean slates onto which the brains of natives could effectively be blown. Nothing beats that new-car smell, they say. The imaginary problems might make Europe smarter--or at least, not as interested in democracy. But we, fundamentalist anti-intellectuals, don't we just want to treat the masses right and oppress the ones who we need to oppress to make sure the whole business doesn't tank? Weren't we a secular succession of the Reformation, after all, which authorities agree was also a success?

I'd been saving this note to give to the right stranger, not the friend group strangers but the strangers my friend group homing-pigeoned out. I stuck the note inside of a caution-orange thermos and, while the front line of the friend group scribbled notes in their interview pads, lobbed it through the kitchen window of the nutmeg house and into the lap of the suspected rapist.

It surprised us all when the thermos was lobbed back at us through an unseen portal in the house. The caution-orange thermos landed noislessly in some knee-high yellow and green ornamental grass that, I noticed, many of the officers were stomping all over. Kevin, a friend group member, picked it up and the Chief police officer, Daryl, rushed over to shine a miniature flashlight over his shoulder. When he realized the notes wasn't for the police, Chief Daryl snapped off the flashlight and huffed back into position.