A recent E-Mail to A Friend.....

I must warn you that I am very very bored at my job. My day consists of trying to do absolutely nothing as slowly as possible. To help break up the monotony, I have become an internet fiend of sorts. For example, I now have a blog devoted entirely to nonsense. I started it in hopes of creating a space for creative brainstorming and self-aggrandizing proclamations; however, it quickly became a forum for self-hatred and blind rage. The transformation was neither welcome nor, I am sad to say, gradual. It is now dominated by comments from friends asking what an entry is supposed to mean or why I “never said this before.” While it has marked a sad turn in my life, I am reluctant to give it up because, well, it is all I’ve got between the hours of 9 and 5 Monday through Friday.

A second result of this boredom is that I write e-mails profusely. There are, in fact, people who no longer write to me precisely because I have become a “high maintenance” correspondent. As an example, I have been known to send e-mails with ridiculous questions like: What is your opinion on the current situation in Iraq? Not only are such questions uninteresting, they are so hopelessly vague that one can’t even begin to answer them. What I should be asking is What’s up?-or even more generally-Hey. Yet, I find the responses to these queries far too short and, in my boredom, extrapolate from their curtness to either the conclusion that they are too busy with exciting parties to write or simply don’t care. Both conclusions, of course, lead me right back to posting on the blog.

Boredom, however, is not a concern for many in City Hall right now. Living up to its reputation, the City of Chicago is experiencing a FBI “shakedown” (I consider it one of the unique joys of my position to be able to talk about the “damn Feds” with our department’s secretary) that has put many bigwigs and fat-cats in Federal prisons. Two people I used to say “Good Morning” to are now behind bars and the Mayor currently fires about two department heads a day. Of course, Correspondence is safe because we do a whole lot of nothing.

The dog days of summer have reached those of us still inhabiting the Western Hemisphere, and my free broken down A/C unit constantly pumps smelly/smoggy air into my dinning room/ bedroom. During this heat wave, I have devoted myself to the temperature moderating activity of studying the thought of William James. One of my major complaints, and secret suspicions, about mother Wheaton’s philosophy department was that good ol’ American Pragmatism didn’t get much a shake and was feared for its brilliance. After reading Jame’s Varieties of Religious Experience before my senior year, I became convinced of the veracity of my suspicions and have not been able to read Platingna or Heidegger without rolling my eyes since. I am currently reading a biography on James by Gerald Meyers and have begun a steady transformation into a Jamesian armchair philosopher. In light of this, I hope to begin spending much of my time with horrible backaches, headaches, panic attacks and a large inheritance. If any of these things occur you can be sure I will let you know about them, via e-mail.

Take care,
Andy