When last we left childhood, we were in some old folks’ home in Israel. Now for something completely different, part five.
by Danish Aziz
I’m hesitant to participate in the “childhood memories” series here at this recording, mainly because I grew up in a place where Google Maps doesn’t yet have satellite imagery.
I have an excellent memory for Internet-gleaned facts and minutiae people tell me about themselves in casual conversation, but little sticks out from childhood aside from traumatic incidents which I’ve no interest in relating to the anonymous mass of eyeballs and psychosis that make up the blogosphere.
Growing up in Iowa surely must have played some role in making me the person I am, and I’ve yet to meet anyone I like more, so it certainly couldn’t have been all bad.
As demonstrated by the previous entries in this series, little kids are pretty weird. In second grade an inexplicable linguistic phenomenon swept my elementary school. This phenomenon involved saying the word “mookie” in an exaggerated Geddy-Lee-meets-Bullwinkle sort of voice. Mookie could be used in many different ways, similar in its flexibility to words like “fuck,” “smurf,” and ” fuggedaboutit.”
While most people would find this harmless or even cute, the word created something of a scandal amongst the glorified babysitters who ran the place. And so came the day when grown adults instituted a ban on a made-up word.
Understandably this did not go over well with my friends whose humor was largely based on this glorious, versatile word (the humor broke down to about 75% mookie “jokes” and 25% pushing people). The following day at recess, we convened in the center of the tire set to discuss our plan of action. To make a short story shorter, a mob of about 20 seven-year-old boys decided to walk around the playground loudly defying the mookie ban while throwing dodgeballs indifferently at other seven year olds and lunch ladies alike. The next day every boy in the second grade class was called into the lunchroom, where I (as designated ringleader) was forced to stand up and apologize to the lunch ladies on behalf of my class. I did what I was told, but from that day forth the mookie ban was rarely enforced.
It’s unclear, but this may have been the moment I decided I would become an anarcho-capitalist.
Aziz is a former mp3 blogger turned corporate soldier, and a regular contributor to this recording.
PREVIOUSLY ON THIS RECORDING
Aziz rehashed some conspiracies here.
We thought of five books you should read right now.
We can name what we long for, but never aloud.
on my tummy!