Word: whodunit

whodunit

[hoo-duhn-it]

noun, Informal.

1. a narrative dealing with a murder or a series of murders and the detection of the criminal; detective story.

*************************************

“You know what?  I should be a detective.”  Kris said as she closed her book.

                “Okay, and what brought this on?”  Jarred said, not looking away from his computer screen.

                “Well, I’m really good at solving crimes and mysteries and stuff, so I’d make a great detective.”

                This time, Jarred did turn to face her.  She had been reading a new crime novel, which she had apparently just finished.

                “What makes you say that?  Have you ever solved a crime?”

                “Oh, sure.  Plenty of times.”  She said proudly.

                “Really?  When?”

                “Well, just now, for one.  I knew who the criminal was, like, halfway through the book.”  She held up the novel for him to see.  He sighed.

                “You know that doesn’t count, right?  I mean, that’s fiction.  I really doubt the cops will look at that as qualifying.”

                “I know it’s not real.  But this isn’t the first time this has happened.  I always know who the criminal is before any of the characters.  My keen deductive mind is able to pinpoint the culprit early.  Sometimes as early as the first time he’s introduced.”

                Jarred just looked at her and blinked slowly.  The sad part was she probably believed what she was saying. 

                “And you really think the fact that you’ve read lots of murder mysteries—“

                “—Solved a lot.”

                “—Okay, solved a lot of those things makes you qualified for a detective?”

                “Yup.”

                “Kris, you know being a detective isn’t all going out and solving crimes, right?  First you’ve got to be a normal cop, which you’d be terrible at, then you have to work your way up the ranks to becoming a detective.  And even then, most of what you’ll be doing is probably not solving murders and such.  Plus, the murders in those books are designed to be solved.  The authors want the reader to solve them ahead of time so they can feel good about themselves when the criminal is actually revealed.  Chances are if I read that book, I’d be able to piece it together pretty quickly too.”

                “Uh huh.  You just keep telling yourself that.”  Kris said. 

                “The thing is, in real life, it’s not like that.  Real life crimes aren’t made to be solved.  Most of the time, they’re made to not be solved, if they’re put together at all.  Trust me, if I were to stage a crime for real, you’d never solve it.”

                “You really think that, huh?” Kris said smugly. 

                “I know so.”

                “Okay, then prove it.  I’ll give you a month.  Set up a fake crime, with witnesses, a location, even a body or missing item or whatever you want it to be.  I guarantee I’ll solve it real fast.”

                Kris folded her arms and taped the corner of her book lightly against her leg.  Jarred could tell she was convinced of her own abilities. 

                “Okay, fine.  But if you can’t solve it within, say, a week, then you give up on this dumb detective idea and aim for something you can actually do.”

                “A week?”  Kris said, mulling the time frame over.

                “Yeah, a week.  Any longer than that, and the “criminal” will escape, never to be seen again.”

                “Hmm.”  She muttered, considering her options.  “Okay, that’s fine.  One month for you to get it ready, one week for me to solve it.  And if I do, I enter the police force.”

                “Right, right.  Don’t worry, I assure you that you’ll never even get close.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some criminal pursuits to plan.”

********************************

If real life was like a crime book, nobody would ever be criminals again.  Think about it.  Every crime is fairly easy to solve, detectives are never killed, and criminals are pretty much guaranteed to be convicted.  It's a criminal's nightmare realm. 

Word: Otiose

otiose

[oh-shee-ohs, oh-tee-]

adjective

1. being at leisure; idle; indolent.

2. ineffective or futile.

3. superfluous or useless.

**********************************************

The sun was warm and the sky was perfectly clear.  The sound of the ocean waves could be heard clearly, even over the myriad voices coming from the people who occupied the beach.  Each person in the crowd was occupying their time doing something.  Some swam in the water.  Others built sand castles.  Still others played beach sports.  It was a place full of all kinds of activities.  Gary chose to occupy his time watching those people.  More specifically, one particular kind of person.

                “Man, you gotta love the beach.”  He said to his sunbathing companion, Roy.  “There’s just something about it, you know.”

                “Uh huh.”  Roy replied without a hint of his friend’s enthusiasm.  He just wanted to relax on the sand.

                “I mean, really, where else can you find scenery like this?”  Gary asked.  Roy rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses.  He didn’t need to ask what kind of “scenery” Gary was talking about.

                “Just as long as you’re only looking.”  He said.

                “What’s that mean?”

                “Just what it sounds like.  Most of the girls here are probably not here to get hit on, you know.”

                “That’s only because they don’t know I’m here.”  Gary said, puffing out his chest.  He meant it to look impressive, but his almost complete lack of muscle just made the pose look pathetic.  Roy did his best to keep himself from laughing. 

                “Yeah, yeah.  You’re a regular stud, you are.”

                “Damn straight.”

                “Listen, big guy, maybe you could turn your raw masculine aura down a bit.  Just for today, you know?  Maybe give the ladies some space to better appreciate everything that is you.”

                “Okay, see, I know you’re being sarcastic, but I choose to believe you actually mean all that.”  Gary said.

                “You do that.”

                “Maybe I will.”  Gary crossed his arms in front of him in mock defiance.  “Oh wait, if I do that, it’ll be harder to pick up a few of ‘em.”

                Roy was very grateful his glasses were dark enough to hide his eyes.  This was the second time they rolled, and he guessed it wouldn’t be the last.  The fact that Gary had said “a few” instead of “one” was both amusing and cringe worthy.

                “A few?”

                “Well, yeah.  I mean, I’m too much man for just one girl, right?  So I gotta get at least two.”

                “Okay, yeah, that’s where I draw the line.”  Roy sat up on his towel.  “Look, Gary, you really should keep to yourself here.  We’re here on vacation, and I’d rather spend my time relaxing.  I don’t want to deal with you hitting on a girl that happens to have a boyfriend that can bench twice his bodyweight.”  Gary stiffened when he heard that.

                “You, uh, you don’t think there’s any guys like that out here, do you?”

                “I wouldn’t discount to possibility.  There’s an outdoor gym thing like, ten minutes away from here.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of these girls are here for one of those guys.”

                “Ah, right.”  Gary had clearly not thought of that possibility.  He curled his lip in thought.  His train of thought was promptly derailed when a particularly buxom young lady walked into his line of sight.  “Still, it’d be a shame to deprive these sweet things of all that is me, right?  I just have to watch out for the ones who already have boyfriends, right?”

                “Yeah, sure.  You do that.  Just don’t come crying to me when it all gets screwed up.”

                Gary didn’t respond.  He was too busy chasing down the girl who had caught his attention.  Roy watched with morbid fascination as he did his best.  Roy could tell she was immediately not interested.  And whatever Gary was saying to her was completely useless in changing her mind.  He was probably lucky she just turned her nose up and walked away, instead of slapping him, then doing the exact same thing. 

                Gary’s shoulders slumped as he trudged back over to Roy.  He flopped down on the sand and hugged his knees to his chest.  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

                “So…” Roy began.

                “Don’t say it.”  Gary said.

                “Did you get her number?”

*******************************************************

I'm sure most of us know a guy like this.  You know, the one who thinks he's a real ladies man, but couldn't get a girl to save his life?  Yeah, him.  Don't worry, I'm not that guy.  In fact, I'm probably the exact opposite.  For me, it's more like I wouldn't know if a girl was hitting on me to save my life.  Yeah, I'm that one.    

Word: Technophobia

technophobia

[tek-nuh-foh-bee-uh]

noun

1. abnormal fear of or anxiety about the effects of advanced technology.

********************************

Evan entered the small apartment, only to be greeted by total darkness.  The lights were off, the windows had probably been either painted black or covered in some other way, and there was no hint of light from anything else.  There wasn’t even so much as the glow of a digital alarm clock.

                He did his best to navigate using only the limited light from the hallway behind him.  He couldn’t get very far though before that to dissipated into darkness.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, turning it on to use the screen’s light as a flashlight.

                “For god sake, turn that thing off.”  Said a terrified voice from the corner of the room.  Evan shined his light on the source, finding Harvey, the owner of the apartment, huddled in the corner.  The disheveled looking young man cowered from the light of the phone like a vampire from a cross.

                “What’re you doing there?  And why are all the lights off?”  Evan asked.

                “Put that damned thing away, then we’ll talk.”  Harvey spat.  Evan cocked an eyebrow, but slipped the phone back into his pocket, once again plunging the room into near total darkness.  Thanks to the still open door, he could at least make out basic shapes. 

                “Okay, so why’d you call me here, why are all the lights off, and why can’t I use my phone?”

                “I called you here to save you, man.”  Harvey said. 

                “From what?”

                “That thing in your pocket, that’s what.”

                “Oh yes, my phone.  Because it is so horrible and dangerous that I require rescue from it.”  Evan said, letting his sarcasm drip freely from his tongue.

                “Don’t laugh man, you don’t know.  Technology, man, technology.  It’s going rampant.  It’s gonna be the end of us all.”

                “Huh?”

                “Yeah, man.  It’s progressing too fast.  It’ll end everything if it keeps going.”

                Evan didn’t say anything for a few seconds.  He couldn’t believe his ears.  A few weeks ago, Harvey had been almost obsessed with the latest and greatest gadget.  Now he was acting like some kind of doomsayer.

                “Seriously?  You seriously think our phones are going to end everything?”

                “Not right now, no.  But soon, yeah.”

                “How do you figure?”

                “You know how fast technology’s progressing, right?  Well, that can only lead to bad stuff, man.  Oh, sure, now everything’s fine.  Now it’s just checking Facebook and emails and stuff on the go.  But soon it’s going to be much, much more.  Pretty soon we’re plugging our brains in to the computers.  Then the tech uses that to become us.  To get better than us.  And then we can kiss our butts goodbye.  Mark my words, it’ll happen.”

                “Oh, come on.  You’ve let Hollywood get to you.  There’s no way that’ll happen.”

                “You think so?  Look around, man.  It’s already happening.  They’ve already got machines and computers and stuff that can do almost anything we can, only better.  They’ve even got computers that can mimic us well enough that people can’t tell the difference.  It’s only a matter of time before AI comes around, and then BAM!” Harvey banged the floor next to him in emphasis to his words.  “It’s good by humanity.”

                “Come on, Harv, you can’t tell me you’re scared of our phones ruling over us.”

                “I should be asking you why you aren’t.  It’s terrifying, man.  I mean, think about it.  Right now we use them, but pretty soon it’s going to be them using us.  And that won’t last for long.”

                Evan let out a light groan and rubbed his forehead.  The conversation had only lasted a few minutes, and yet a very pronounced headache was already forming.

                “Okay, okay, I get it.  We should all abandon our phones and computers so they don’t rise up against us.”

                “No, man, you don’t get it.  It’s not just the computers, man.  It’s everything.  Technology is everywhere.  We put it in our homes, in our pets, even in our bodies.  It’s everywhere, and it’s always getting better and better.  Sooner or later, all that’ll come back to bite us.”

                “Wait, seriously?  Is that why the lights are off?”

                “Well, yeah.  I mean, pretty soon all those lights are gonna be, like, the eyes of the technological uprising.  Why give them any more of an advantage than they’ll already have, am I right?”

                “You really believe this, don’t you?”

                “Why shouldn’t I?” 

                Evan was at a loss for words.  One of his best friends had become some kind of technophobe.  Either that or an anti-technology doomsayer.  Maybe a bit of both?  Either way, Evan didn’t want to give the guy any more ammo to use.  Or attention to fuel his drive.  If he did that, Harvey may end up with a cardboard sign draped around him urging people to through their phones away or something similar.  He made a mental note to get Harvey some kind of professional help later on.

                “Okay, you know what, I can’t listen to this right now.” Evan said.  “Do me a favor, would you?  Really think about what you’re saying here, okay.  And when you come to your senses, call me.  We can hang out and laugh about this once you do. Until then, I’m going to a place where I can actually see.”

                Evan left the apartment, using the light from the hall as a guide.  All the while, Harvey continued to rant and rave about the terrors of technology, and how it would doom all of mankind.  Evan did his best to tune out the mad ravings.  Once he was in the hall, he closed the door, letting Harvey wallow in the darkness.  He then wrote out a quick memo on his phone, reminding himself to call someone better equipped to deal with psychological problems like that.    

*****************************

Not sure if this could really be called a case of technophobia or something different, but oh well.  It could be just a case of very acute paranoia as well, but I choose to think it fits the words well enough.