Simon's Blog

I witnessed three heated exchanges recently that got me thinking. The first involved a man crossing the street—shirtless, belly drooping, looking very much like a 60-year-old Bart Simpson. As he stepped into the road, a car entered the crosswalk and nearly clipped him. The man spun around, jumping and shouting at the driver, “You fing bh, watch where you’re going! You should get a ticket for that, goddamn it!” Watching from across the street, I couldn’t help but think that if anyone deserved a ticket, it was him—for indecency, rudeness, and being a total jerk. Fortunately, the driver paid him no mind; she simply kept driving and went on with her day. How many times have you had to deal with someone like that? A customer frustrated by a late delivery, a colleague bitter because you got the promotion, or a friend irritated because you’re five minutes late. There are endless ways to lose our tempers. It’s easy to get rattled or offended when confronted with anger, and if you don't ...

Most people call me "Meme." I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the name, but it’s certainly an upgrade from being called Richard—or worse, Dick. I am told that I am an idea or a behavior that ripples from one person to the next within a culture. Hearing that makes me feel a bit like a virus or a bacterium, hitching a ride on human interaction. I spread through writing, speech, and ritual—especially religion. In popular culture, however, I usually take the form of captioned images, circulating rapidly across the digital landscape. I’ve clearly become quite popular since my father, Richard Dawkins, gave birth to me in 1976. Honestly, I just wish someone would celebrate my birthday. My father describes me as a cultural entity that enjoys being everywhere, but I don’t think he knows me very well; he was never really around while I was growing up. I’m not even sure I know myself, though I do know that I replicate through exposure to people who appreciate the information I ca...

Arjun went to bed early. Having had a full day, he refused to default to the mindless entertainment of a TV show. He was growing tired of his simple routines and shrugged at the thought of reading; it seemed better to simply close his eyes and drift off. Though he rarely slept well, he soon found himself dreaming of places and people, unable to grasp the meaning of his lucid visions. No sooner had he fallen asleep than his eyes snapped open. Feeling fully rested and energized, he leaped out of bed and headed to the kitchen for his routine breakfast. Outside, a full moon hung bright in a translucent sky, its light spreading fingers across the horizon like an approaching sunrise. He assumed it was 5:00 or 6:00 AM. But as he glanced outside, he sensed something he couldn't quite name. A creature inside him tugged at his core, trying to offer a different perspective on time. He reached for his phone and realized it wasn't even midnight yet; it was 11:30 PM. He had slept for only ...