According to the neighborhood loop, Fio's security is threatened not only by mystery cars, but also by the most hardened criminals of all--kids. They're supposed to be putting a Drano and tin foil concoction in plastic bottles and tossing them around for unsuspecting adults to pick up and thus blow their fingers off. Hmmm--if the combination is so volatile, why doesn't it blow up the kids?
Aside from the fact that the only young'ns in our area are people's visiting grandchildren and that no one around here would stow Drano under the kitchen sink because we all have septic tanks, this is an urban legend that's been making the rounds for many years.
As Fio told you, she lives in paranoia central.
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Right Here in River City!
Fiorella lives in a wooded rural subdivision of about ninety homes averaging at least five acres apiece. There is only one road into the area and no road out. Neighbors keep tabs on each other and are always helpful. It is the safest, sweetest, most secure place Fio has ever lived.
It is also the world epicenter of paranoia. At a recent neighborhood association meeting, a resident reported he'd had something stolen. Immediately, plans erupted like Vesuvius to counter this obvious crime wave--decals for neighborhood cars, surveillance cameras, and security lights.
Fiorella considered pointing out that relatives, maids, yardmen, and tradespeople wouldn't be sporting decals and that decals can't be seen at night, but restrained herself. She didn't even ask who'd be responsible for checking cars for identification, or what would be done if the vehicle were decal-less.
But at least decals wouldn't cost much compared to surveillance cameras or security lights--although there is so little traffic through the subdivision that Fio would pity anyone assigned to looking at a tape. And the security lights would only benefit the high crime areas--like the end of a street where a couple of cars have been spotted parked late at night.
All in all, Fio is a little jealous. Here she'd thought SHE was the most interesting thing going on in her neighborhood.
It is also the world epicenter of paranoia. At a recent neighborhood association meeting, a resident reported he'd had something stolen. Immediately, plans erupted like Vesuvius to counter this obvious crime wave--decals for neighborhood cars, surveillance cameras, and security lights.
Fiorella considered pointing out that relatives, maids, yardmen, and tradespeople wouldn't be sporting decals and that decals can't be seen at night, but restrained herself. She didn't even ask who'd be responsible for checking cars for identification, or what would be done if the vehicle were decal-less.
But at least decals wouldn't cost much compared to surveillance cameras or security lights--although there is so little traffic through the subdivision that Fio would pity anyone assigned to looking at a tape. And the security lights would only benefit the high crime areas--like the end of a street where a couple of cars have been spotted parked late at night.
All in all, Fio is a little jealous. Here she'd thought SHE was the most interesting thing going on in her neighborhood.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Conspiracy Theorist at Work
Fiorella can out-theorize conspiracy theorists any day of the week. She dwells in the land of perpetual what-if.
What if that sound in the middle of the night is a burglar, or a serial killer, or a vampire, or a zombie, or the house falling apart, or an alien invasion, or the end of the world or a sound she's made up in her head because she's totally insane and always has been? What if she's not really human, but a simulacrum someone concocted? What if she actually died years ago, and she's on perpetual rerun? What if no one is real but her? What if she's actually a creature in an experimental zoo?
Had enough? Well, along the experimental line, what if Fio was rigged up and given her life's difficulties just to see how much one person could take? What if she was exchanged for another baby at birth? What if she is living several lives at the same time, and each time she dies in one of those other lives, there are less lives left till her final demise?
Let's get a little less paranoid. What if one of those sparkly rocks in her driveway is really a precious gem? What if her dog actually does understands English? What if Fio can relieve people's pain with warmth radiating from her hands?
And then there are the what-if's that refer to the past, Fio's and others. And, of course, the glory and the ignominy of the future. And the ones that pop up whenever she walks out of the house or gets in a car or talks to someone or reads a book or watches television or gets on the computer or writes or eats or sings or DOES ANYTHING OR DOESN'T DO ANYTHING.
And that's just the beginning.
What if that sound in the middle of the night is a burglar, or a serial killer, or a vampire, or a zombie, or the house falling apart, or an alien invasion, or the end of the world or a sound she's made up in her head because she's totally insane and always has been? What if she's not really human, but a simulacrum someone concocted? What if she actually died years ago, and she's on perpetual rerun? What if no one is real but her? What if she's actually a creature in an experimental zoo?
Had enough? Well, along the experimental line, what if Fio was rigged up and given her life's difficulties just to see how much one person could take? What if she was exchanged for another baby at birth? What if she is living several lives at the same time, and each time she dies in one of those other lives, there are less lives left till her final demise?
Let's get a little less paranoid. What if one of those sparkly rocks in her driveway is really a precious gem? What if her dog actually does understands English? What if Fio can relieve people's pain with warmth radiating from her hands?
And then there are the what-if's that refer to the past, Fio's and others. And, of course, the glory and the ignominy of the future. And the ones that pop up whenever she walks out of the house or gets in a car or talks to someone or reads a book or watches television or gets on the computer or writes or eats or sings or DOES ANYTHING OR DOESN'T DO ANYTHING.
And that's just the beginning.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
From the Ridiculous to the Sublime
It's amazing how fast "just one glazed doughnut" becomes a dozen.
*
Fio wants someone to invent windshield wipers that will turn on automatically, then adjust their rhythm to the amount of rain falling on the car window.
*
Maybe people die because they don't want to be old anymore.
*
Once the unthinkable has happened, one realizes it can happen again.
*
The universe is logical, and that logic is God.
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Fio wants someone to invent windshield wipers that will turn on automatically, then adjust their rhythm to the amount of rain falling on the car window.
*
Maybe people die because they don't want to be old anymore.
*
Once the unthinkable has happened, one realizes it can happen again.
*
The universe is logical, and that logic is God.
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