(Note: This is in response to Jan’s comment on my previous post.)
Dear, dear Jan,
(SIGH . . .)
I’m really not surprised. I mean, I’m constantly running across people who don’t understand, haven’t “seen the light,” fail to grasp the global—nay, universal—nature of this phenomenon. People who for some inexplicable reason can’t seem to process what their senses tell them and put it all together.
You have indeed "joined the party late." That’s not your fault! I can’t really blame you for NOT checking out all of Schnoodlepooh’s blogroll, especially since my space here is called “Romantic Ramblings,” which sounds as if it has nothing at all to do with dogs.
So, at the risk of unleashing a new wave of terror upon the world, I shall forthwith initiate you.
(Forgive me, please, if I whisper a bit. I’ve found that sometimes—not often, but occasionally—the ycaripsnoc does not seem to become activated by a soft whisper (or occasional sdrawkcab spelling) of its name.
The formal name of this phenomenon is Resistentialism. (It’s a real word. Look it up.) And all my regular readers know that it exists. Some people tend to laugh it off by little sayings, such as, “Bad things always happen in sets of threes,” or, “It never rains but it pours,” . . . things like that. They just don’t understand the insidious nature of the problem.
Well, here it is:
Simply put, all so-called inanimate objects are linked together by a natural tendency to break, fail, or otherwise malfunction at the worst possible time so as to cause humans the maximum amount of expense and inconvenience. Surely, if you think about it, you've noticed this? Of course you have.
Well, there’s more! These objects COMMUNICATE! With each other! Both of like and unlike kinds!
Example: two years ago the cold water supply line under my master bathroom sink just came apart one morning when no one was even in the bathroom, let alone using the water! I happened to be nearby (it was a Saturday morning), heard the roaring, spraying water, and managed to get the supply to the house shut off before all my carpets were soaked.
Okay, I fixed (replaced) that line along with its twin on the hot water side. But the plumbing wasn’t through with me. Oh, no! Next, the guest bathroom toilet began leaking around the wax ring on the floor. Then, after Michelle (“southernbelle” from South Arfica) warned me, based on her own experiences, to be careful of garden taps outside, one of our hoses that we use to water the back yard burst, narrowly missing soaking Carol.
I then went through problems with house wiring, two kitchen appliances, my commute-to-work car, and (of course) my computer! (Some have theorized that computers are really the "brains" or the controlling force behind these outbreaks, especially since they seem to be cantankerous and irritating by nature, but I think it's something deeper and more devious!)
As I detailed these problems on this blog, my faithful readers (BOTH of them, mind you!) related that THEY were experiencing similar breakage and failures. By alerting them to the issue, it seemed I was causing the problems to spread like wildfire! Around the world! Peter has documented its existence in Australia. Rob has done so in the UK. I tell you, this thing is EVERYWHERE!
We determined that the (ahem) "inanimate" objects communicate through the electrical wiring or the pipes in the house, and thence through the electrical and plumbing grids to the rest of the world. What about cars, you ask? Well, cars have radios! So there you are!
Anyway, we began calling this phenomenon (forgive my whisper) “the Conspiracy.” It will wait quietly, seemingly dormant (or perhaps actually resting and gathering strength) until SOMETHING sets it off! That "something" might be just a mention of its name, or cosmic forces caused by sunspots. We don’t know for sure, but it always comes back and no one is immune from it!
We ARE sure of its existence, and its nearly Satanic power! It can bankrupt a person if it gets out of control, causing the replacement of many expensive items all at once (or over a short period of weeks).
So BEWARE the “C.” Mention it at your extreme peril.
I only bring it up from time to time as a public service to my readers. Especially when a new outpouring of its wrath seems imminent or in progress.
(Or when I’ve been off my meds for a few days.)
Yours in hopes the "C" will leave you alone for a time,
(Where ARE those damned pills?!)