A Louis XIV table
I recently struck upon a brilliant idea that is going to make a lot of money. I’m going to open a consulting firm. That’s right, your erstwhile blogger, long-time educator and aspiring novelist is going to become a consultant.
Frankly, I think it’s a pretty easy gig. Essentially all you’ve got to do is give people advice on whatever kind of professional issue they’re struggling with.
If they pose a really difficult problem all I’d have to say is: “try googling it.” If that won’t do in a particular situation I can suggest: "ask ChatGPT.” Simple.
(Mind you, I’ll insist on payment in advance — no refunds.)
If someone calls back unsatisfied with my efforts I’ll say: “No hablo inglés.” That ought to do it.
But for the most part I believe I’ll have satisfied customers. I imagine I’ll get a lot of people who are in situations like this: they’ve been in exporting and importing and are thinking of focusing on one area rather than both but they can’t decide which. I’ll just pick one at random and make it sound like the smart choice. I did that for a friend who works at Vandelay Industries. He’s doing swell.
That’s it for this topic, I don’t want to give away trade secrets, after all I’ve got a business to start. Ka-ching.
But this is too short to qualify as a blog post so I’m going to add something about tables. (You’re welcome.)
How do you describe a table? It’s big. How big? It’s brown. What shade? It’s made of oak. It’s scuffed. One of the legs is a bit wobbly. Why are you describing the table? Is there a vase on it? A computer? Food? Is it a dining room table or a kitchen table or is it in a garage? It could be in a classroom. There could be books piled on it. Or it could be bare. It used to belong to your great grandfather — maybe he built it. Or it could be new. Do you have an attachment to the table? Are there chairs at the table? Is it by a window? Does it catch the morning sun? Maybe it has a burn mark on it from when someone placed a hot pan on it. Maybe a child drew on it with a marking pen. Maybe an edge of it is gone — just not there.
Why are you describing the table? What is its significance? How often is a table worth going into detail about? Not often, I should think. Do we take tables for granted and if so is that important given that tables are intimate objects. In reality — as far as we know — tables have no feelings. They do not create. They do not feel. Living things feel. Certain living things, mostly people, create. We can imagine. A table can’t imagine. It just sits there. Day after day. Hour after hour. Month after month. Minute after minute. Year after year.
Tables have legs. Legs that don’t walk. That’s worth contemplating. Or not.
Have their been any significant improvements in tables over the last ten, twelve, centuries. I don’t think so. There are different kind of tables that didn’t used to exist. Like metal ones. Tables serve different functions than they used to. A table from the sixth century would have been more of a rarity because there were significantly fewer tables back then and less furniture in general.
The importance of a table isn’t so much in how it looks but how it’s used. What our relationship with that table is. My original point was about describing a table. You don’t need to say much about them. They just are. A lot of things are. Rocks are. Flowers are. Paintings are.
Maybe I’ll read a book someday in which the author goes into detail describing a table. One can hope.
(Above I typed the sentence: One can hope, but pre-editing I left a letter out and the sentence read: One can hop. Truth is not everybody can hop. People missing a leg would have great difficulty hoping. Sure they could probably pull off the hop itself but it would be the landing that posed a problem. Thank you for indulging this digression.)
I’ve written about the threat of crocodiles on this blog at least once before. Recently I came across an article in the Guardian about the increase of attacks by the beasts in the Lake Turkana area of Kenya.
Lake Turkana has expanded by about ten per cent over the past decade due largely to increased rainfall linked to the climate crisis and tectonic shifts in the Rift Valley. That expansion has pushed Nile crocodiles closer to villages and fishing communities, leading to a sharp rise in attacks. Kenya Wildlife Service recorded seven deaths and fifteen injuries from crocodile attacks in the past year alone around the lake.
I found the article haunting. It’s incredible to me that in the 21st century so many people are still being killed and even eaten by animals. It is estimated that at least 1,000 people a year are killed worldwide by crocodiles with Nile crocodiles and seawater crocodiles doing most of the killing. By comparison sharks kill about five to ten people a year.
Hippos kill several hundred people a year, lions dozens and snakes account for 80,000-1000,000 deaths a year. Incredible.
For my part I’m going to continue to live an area which has no crocodiles, no hippos, no lions and virtually no venomous snakes. I’m also not going to visit such areas. We are leaving for a vacation later in the week and the places we’re going: London, Finland, Denmark, are not known for their wild beasts killing people.
Circling back to how I started this post, I’m going to recommend anyone I consult with that they stay the hell away from croc-infested regions. Common sense.
No comments:
Post a Comment