This afternoon I engaged in some of that trite and mentally squeamish Facebook sparring.
She said: “happy friday the 13th” on her wall.
Barely missing a beat (I was at work), I replied, “i think it’s really sunday the 15th that is bad luck but people always blame friday” in my best uncapitalized grammatically rushed and overly-cool and nonplussed manner.
I didn’t think much about this exchange until a little while ago when I revisited it from the relaxed comfort of my apartment on a cool Friday the 13th evening. My mind is a different creature when I’m not mired at work, untangling clerical and financial obstacles on the behalf of Big Employer. The minute I walk out the building each evening, I suspect my Creative Quotient rises 50 points. My mind is unleashed, barriers torn down, mental springs replenished. On my own time my mind resumes its normally scheduled program and I can actually divert a large portion of concentration to impractical and esoteric bullshit.
Like that thing about Sunday the 15th.
I suppose I should take some (very little) pride in this cognitive twist. After all, this is what I train my mind to accomplish. I strive for such “fresh” perceptions. To observe and perceive normal and accepted verbal and mental interactions from a radically uncommon perspective, even for something as trivial and ridiculous as Sunday the 15th.
Disregard the facetious nature of my quip.
Forget it; look at the mechanics of my sentiment.
There was a movie quite a few years ago called Saturday the 14th which was basically a really bad spoof of slasher horror movies, circa 1980. The point is that someone did extend the concept of Friday the 13th before; they elasticized it and squeezed out an alternative viewpoint of the mythical day. It’s not the height of originality.
My retort to my friend’s wall post was spontaneous and hardly a dose of genius insight. But the thought does nag.
How often do we, in this culture, mythologize an inconspicuous fact or event (or a very conspicuous fact or event!) until it loses all traces of warranted legitimacy because popular attitude inflates it with purely people-driven nonsense; and the numb-minded reflex to embrace such superficial ideology diminishes our ability to “unaccept” or view the quality in question as anything other than what common consensus dictates it should be.
Common perception instructs us that Friday is the culprit.
Friday the 13th is the reason ill-fortune befalls us. But we don’t pause to question because skepticism dilutes fascination. But fascination is what our bored souls crave and thus we persist in proliferating as much superstitious fascination as possible.
So focussed on the pinpoint of light we don’t even take note of its origins.
Actually, that was my favorite part of the silly observation. Friday has become the fall guy. Friday takes the mob mentality’s blame. Friday wants to be left alone; it wants to live the simple life of just another weekday, but it’s not likely! Not as bad luck abounds and Sunday sits quietly in the shadows invisibly causing a ruckus. Because everyone is so fucking fixated on Friday for no other reason than that everyone else is blaming Friday, they have been for centuries and this spurious belief has acquired a life of its own and not one goddamned person considers it a worthy endeavor to question Friday’s culpability.
Perhaps Sunday’s gift of misery is instantly transmitted to Friday in an act which defies the laws of physics.
Faster than the speed of light, in fact. In the same way physicists have noted the ability of a natural quantum particle to affect another particle at an enormous distance almost instantaneously, quicker than can be explained by the speed of light, theoretically the fastest speed at which matter can move.
Damn it all.