Life is strange and wonderful, and even inanimate objects move in mysterious ways. Take ballpoints, for example. Everyone knows that they have a habit of disappearing, and nobody, not even Douglas Adams, knows for sure where they go. No matter how many you buy (or "borrow"), they always disappear after a few days, and you are forced to go back to your ever-growing collection of rejects of all sizes and shapes, in the hope of finding one that works. In my case, the choice is simple: for the past year, I have relied on a pen of which the top is missing, so that it wobbles while I write. I hate it, but I am convinced that it is this very defect that prevents it from disappearing, so in a sense, I am also grateful.
Of course, the parallels with the animate world are not lost on me. Just like genes, which must disseminate to ensure the continued success of the species, ballpoints strive towards new frontiers, where they can lead long successful lives (or at very least find gainful employment). And equally obviously, I do realize that pens are not actively involved in a struggle for survival. But there definitely is selection going on, and the fittest are surviving, even though - unfortunately for me - it is elsewhere.
Which leads to the thought that maybe I should be a tougher taskmaster, and simply throw the wobbly pen away. But how can I? It has been my salvation for over a year now. A hate-love dilemma if I ever saw one.
Footnote (pun intended): you might be tempted to see parallels with socks as well, but that would be just plain silly, because socks never disappear in pairs. It is always only one, and I cannot for the life of me imagine any gainful employment for a single sock (other than possibly as a makeshift puppet for children).
Of course, the parallels with the animate world are not lost on me. Just like genes, which must disseminate to ensure the continued success of the species, ballpoints strive towards new frontiers, where they can lead long successful lives (or at very least find gainful employment). And equally obviously, I do realize that pens are not actively involved in a struggle for survival. But there definitely is selection going on, and the fittest are surviving, even though - unfortunately for me - it is elsewhere.
Which leads to the thought that maybe I should be a tougher taskmaster, and simply throw the wobbly pen away. But how can I? It has been my salvation for over a year now. A hate-love dilemma if I ever saw one.
Footnote (pun intended): you might be tempted to see parallels with socks as well, but that would be just plain silly, because socks never disappear in pairs. It is always only one, and I cannot for the life of me imagine any gainful employment for a single sock (other than possibly as a makeshift puppet for children).
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