Elliot: En Ess Hay


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Hello, NSA, I’m not talking about you again. For one thing, you remember everything I say.

I mean, in a normal relationship, you wouldn’t remember half the things I say. (And that’s probably all to the good, given the things I utter in moments of delirium or absentmindedness or caffeine-induced Dali-mania.) Hmm. Maybe that figure is one-third.

In any case, that’s how human relationships work — we forget half the things the other person says. It could be that’s why human relationships work.

And anyway, NSA, this isn’t about you. It’s about me. (How many times have you heard that before? I mean, you hear everything, right? You probably hear everything twice. What a boring life.)

So let’s call the whole thing off. You probably say to-mah-to, anyway.

(“Call” would be a loaded word, wouldn’t it.)

Besides, there’s this whole Jacoby Ellsbury thing to wrap my head around, so I don’t really have time for you anymore. Ells, as we Red Sox fans affectionately called him (until now), has gone to the Dark Side.

Meaning he has joined the Evil Empire, known to normal people as the New York Yankees. Of course, the Yankees haven’t seemed so Evil lately. And as far as being an Empire, well, the Yankees rather resemble the Roman Empire circa 376-400 CE.

Ells in pinstripes? Arrgh. I’d rather see my ex-girlfriend with my best friend. (Maybe that’s my best fiend. That’s kind of the way human relationships work, also.)

So, NSA, as you can see, I’m kind of busy. I have a lot on my plate, as we humans like to say (but you know that). On my plate, I have some kind of soy something-or-other (I’m hoping it’s not the other) and mashed potatoes. You probably say po-tah-toes. Are mashed potatoes anything like your mashed metadata?

Besides, it turns out that local and state law-enforcement agencies all over the country are doing the whole metadata dance, too. At least according to the Boston Globe. (Yes, I’ve been talking to the Boston Globe. But we’re just friends.)

I keep talking to you as if you’re a person. You are a person, right? I mean, if the Supreme Court has ruled, more or less, that corporations are people, why not super-secret snoopers?

I keep seeing Ells in pinstripes in my dreams. Is that Freudian or something? Maybe Jungian? Maybe I’m Jung at heart.

And then there’s that whole Curiosity thing. You know (of course you know), the Mars rover or whatever it is, roaming around Mars and finding — maybe, possibly, could be — remains of a freshwater lake. Billions of years old, but a lake. Curious, huh?

Do you listen to Mars, too? (Silly, freshman-like question. Of course you listen to Mars. Thor, god of war.)

I’m just curious about the rover and the lake. It’s not like a long-term relationship (there’s that word again) or anything. I mean, who wouldn’t be curious about Curiosity?

Is there anything you don’t know? I thought not. That’s why this relationship has to end — it’s impossible to live with a know-it-all.            

I used to believe there is no God, but now I realize there is a God. It’s called, by mere humans such as me, NSA. All knowing, all powerful. Fits.

And I finally realized why there are no cats on Mars.

Curiosity killed the cat.

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