A Tiny Tale for My Goodreads Friends
A tiny and happy tale as my little gift to all of you.
Happy Holidays.
KXF
N-less-ness
When I was 7 in 1984, I remember my older brother plunking in one too many quarters into the pinball machine all to get high score N. I kept tugging on his sleeve that we had to get home because we were already late for dinner, but he just blew me off and kept himself in a tense ocular lock with the machine and its random array of blinking lights, its transistorized space movie sounds, and his fingers jamming the side buttons. It was as if he were certainly under a spell, chained to that machine and chasing after a N that he could call his own.
Eventually, after fourteen dollars and fifty-cents, he got high score N. For a day or two. It was a badge he could wear for just a short time. Someone with the initials of PQR got N+n.
N years later.
My neighbour works long hours so that he can get N in his bank account to afford that N-dollar vehicle that has a top speed of N, and a gas mileage of N. A young professor nearby has to publish N articles to boost his impact factor to at least N to get promoted to tenure. He moans that he only has N citations to his work, and is trying to write his Nth book. He has N-n articles than he thinks is necessary. An indie author across the street is bummed out because some random stranger on the Internet gave his book a rating of N out of n. He told me that he only has N reviews, so this rating really sticks out. The politician in our ward is really pushing hard to fundraise N dollars for her campaign. The polls put her at N%, and she needs at least N+n% for a safe margin. My little nephew places a lot of value in his online social life. On one site where it is all just people sharing updates, he boasts of having N followers, but he is really gunning to get N+n followers. On another site, his most recent post earned him N likes by N people who saw it. I ask him if that is good, and he tells me he could always use N more. He showed me a profile of one of his connections who get N presents for xmas, and had earned N points in collaborative video game. Another connection had been to N countries, and yet another user had N pairs of shoes, watched N movies, and had N friends. And I saw it again when reading a magazine where University A was saying how it would achieve N in worldwide rankings. Meanwhile, a news item about a man who lived to be N years old, and giving his secrets of longevity to all those who cared more about getting N more years and very little about the quality of those years.
Everyone I talked to seemed to be chasing after N as if their lives wouldn’t be complete without it. I asked each of them how many would be enough. It was always N+n more. And then what? [N+n]+n more, and so on. I find each of their Ns arbitrary, and yet they all devoted their strongest of efforts to acquire it only to set it higher once it was achieved. And everywhere I went online there was some person or product or service begging me to rank them, rate them, assign them N so that their cumulative Ns would reach N.
And so one day, I got rid of N.
I can’t really tell you how I did it, but I did it. It happened very quickly.
There were no more top N lists. There were no more N out of N ratings on a table-saw. There was no N likes on the social network. There were no N stars on the movie or book review. There were no more N points in some video game, nor any assignments being graded N to affect a GPA of N. None at all.
And it was then I noticed a change in this new, N-less world. Instead of just clicking N to rate a movie or book, people wrote something thoughtful. Instead of chasing so slavishly after N dollars or N status points or N home runs in a year or N countries visited as if the globe were nothing more than a checklist, people set different priorities. No longer was it about having the biggest N in anything; that didn’t matter anymore. It was as though N had been taking the place of something all this time, something more substantial and more meaningful... something we actually learned from. We took delight in discovering the qualities of the very things we once just so carelessly and indifferently gave N to. People seemed more relaxed, nicer, and with much more interesting things to say now that N wasn’t the centre of every conversation. People were friendlier now that N no longer stood between them.
Anna was not made to feel sad for the N Valentine’s Day cards she got in her grade three class, because it had nothing to do with N.
Bobby was not judged as being more or less liked online among his high school peers because there was no N friends to compare, and so his self-esteem remained strong.
Chris no longer worried about getting that N GPA to retain his scholarship because it was acknowledged that he worked hard and produced good work, and that was in itself enough.
Daniel didn’t worry that he wasn’t making N salary because he realized he had a beautiful family and comfortable life, and that was good enough for him. No one judged him for how much or how little he had in his bank account because he was simply a good man.
Edward no longer fussed about only getting N reviewers, or about how many N-stars he received for his recent poetry collection because the Ns were gone, and he was happy that there were people out there that were inspired by his work. Some even wrote some very thoughtful reviews, commenting on things that even he hadn’t considered before.
Fiona didn’t spend her early mornings with her campaign team trying to devise new ways of getting N more votes from a demographic map that resembled a butcher’s diagram for a cow. Instead, they discussed innovative ways of reaching out to voters and hearing what issues mattered to them.
Gregory was over the moon to hear that the committee granted him tenure. As N was no longer a factor, they instead focused on the qualities that made him a good researcher, and an even greater teacher.
Heather sported the most serene and wise of smiles even though soon her eyes would be closed forever. As there was no more N to worry about or live for, she knew that she enjoyed her life for as long as it was.
I saw all of this and more, but didn’t bother counting the instances because that would sneak N back into our lives. And when I turn back the clock, I am sitting at the table with my older brother enjoying a wonderful dinner our mother made us. In that version of events without N, we were not late for dinner, and afterward we went playing in the woods looking for tadpoles.
e"N"d
Happy Holidays.
KXF
N-less-ness
When I was 7 in 1984, I remember my older brother plunking in one too many quarters into the pinball machine all to get high score N. I kept tugging on his sleeve that we had to get home because we were already late for dinner, but he just blew me off and kept himself in a tense ocular lock with the machine and its random array of blinking lights, its transistorized space movie sounds, and his fingers jamming the side buttons. It was as if he were certainly under a spell, chained to that machine and chasing after a N that he could call his own.
Eventually, after fourteen dollars and fifty-cents, he got high score N. For a day or two. It was a badge he could wear for just a short time. Someone with the initials of PQR got N+n.
N years later.
My neighbour works long hours so that he can get N in his bank account to afford that N-dollar vehicle that has a top speed of N, and a gas mileage of N. A young professor nearby has to publish N articles to boost his impact factor to at least N to get promoted to tenure. He moans that he only has N citations to his work, and is trying to write his Nth book. He has N-n articles than he thinks is necessary. An indie author across the street is bummed out because some random stranger on the Internet gave his book a rating of N out of n. He told me that he only has N reviews, so this rating really sticks out. The politician in our ward is really pushing hard to fundraise N dollars for her campaign. The polls put her at N%, and she needs at least N+n% for a safe margin. My little nephew places a lot of value in his online social life. On one site where it is all just people sharing updates, he boasts of having N followers, but he is really gunning to get N+n followers. On another site, his most recent post earned him N likes by N people who saw it. I ask him if that is good, and he tells me he could always use N more. He showed me a profile of one of his connections who get N presents for xmas, and had earned N points in collaborative video game. Another connection had been to N countries, and yet another user had N pairs of shoes, watched N movies, and had N friends. And I saw it again when reading a magazine where University A was saying how it would achieve N in worldwide rankings. Meanwhile, a news item about a man who lived to be N years old, and giving his secrets of longevity to all those who cared more about getting N more years and very little about the quality of those years.
Everyone I talked to seemed to be chasing after N as if their lives wouldn’t be complete without it. I asked each of them how many would be enough. It was always N+n more. And then what? [N+n]+n more, and so on. I find each of their Ns arbitrary, and yet they all devoted their strongest of efforts to acquire it only to set it higher once it was achieved. And everywhere I went online there was some person or product or service begging me to rank them, rate them, assign them N so that their cumulative Ns would reach N.
And so one day, I got rid of N.
I can’t really tell you how I did it, but I did it. It happened very quickly.
There were no more top N lists. There were no more N out of N ratings on a table-saw. There was no N likes on the social network. There were no N stars on the movie or book review. There were no more N points in some video game, nor any assignments being graded N to affect a GPA of N. None at all.
And it was then I noticed a change in this new, N-less world. Instead of just clicking N to rate a movie or book, people wrote something thoughtful. Instead of chasing so slavishly after N dollars or N status points or N home runs in a year or N countries visited as if the globe were nothing more than a checklist, people set different priorities. No longer was it about having the biggest N in anything; that didn’t matter anymore. It was as though N had been taking the place of something all this time, something more substantial and more meaningful... something we actually learned from. We took delight in discovering the qualities of the very things we once just so carelessly and indifferently gave N to. People seemed more relaxed, nicer, and with much more interesting things to say now that N wasn’t the centre of every conversation. People were friendlier now that N no longer stood between them.
Anna was not made to feel sad for the N Valentine’s Day cards she got in her grade three class, because it had nothing to do with N.
Bobby was not judged as being more or less liked online among his high school peers because there was no N friends to compare, and so his self-esteem remained strong.
Chris no longer worried about getting that N GPA to retain his scholarship because it was acknowledged that he worked hard and produced good work, and that was in itself enough.
Daniel didn’t worry that he wasn’t making N salary because he realized he had a beautiful family and comfortable life, and that was good enough for him. No one judged him for how much or how little he had in his bank account because he was simply a good man.
Edward no longer fussed about only getting N reviewers, or about how many N-stars he received for his recent poetry collection because the Ns were gone, and he was happy that there were people out there that were inspired by his work. Some even wrote some very thoughtful reviews, commenting on things that even he hadn’t considered before.
Fiona didn’t spend her early mornings with her campaign team trying to devise new ways of getting N more votes from a demographic map that resembled a butcher’s diagram for a cow. Instead, they discussed innovative ways of reaching out to voters and hearing what issues mattered to them.
Gregory was over the moon to hear that the committee granted him tenure. As N was no longer a factor, they instead focused on the qualities that made him a good researcher, and an even greater teacher.
Heather sported the most serene and wise of smiles even though soon her eyes would be closed forever. As there was no more N to worry about or live for, she knew that she enjoyed her life for as long as it was.
I saw all of this and more, but didn’t bother counting the instances because that would sneak N back into our lives. And when I turn back the clock, I am sitting at the table with my older brother enjoying a wonderful dinner our mother made us. In that version of events without N, we were not late for dinner, and afterward we went playing in the woods looking for tadpoles.
e"N"d
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