THINK!

I don't know why I bother to argue/discuss things with the women at work as often as I do, which isn't very often. Most of the time, when someone (especially Two Clowns) says something stupid or which I know to be an historical or factual inaccuracy, I just sigh to myself and whisper the mantra, "Let it go."

But occasionally I think, "Here's an opportunity to educate someone!" And this almost always leads to disappointment for me.

Like the second time Princess Anne ventured to talk about the "Paki dot." This is an expression I find really offensive, smacking as it does of racism and ignorance.

But people get defensive and pissy when you attack them the way you might initially be inclined, so when she said "Paki dot," most recently, I turned to her and said as neutrally as I could manage, "Do you know what the 'Paki dot' is?"

"No," she said, to no-one's surprise.

"It's properly called a bhindi," I explained. "It is an ancient and sacred symbol of a woman's marriage to her husbnad, which in Hindu tradition, is not just for this lifetime, but for all reincarnations. It is a time-homoured symbol of a woman's maturity and represents that she is able to take her place in society with the rest of the adult females."

And I said all this because I think it is not enough to simply condemn racism and ignorance; it is necessary also to educate.

But Princess Anne wasn't impressed. She doesn't say "Paki dot" anymore, but that's because I obviously find it offensive, and not because my words had any effect on her. Alas. I can't say I didn't try.

Then on the morning of the Royal Wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton, a discussion broke out regarding who will be the next Queen of England. The Cub thought it would be Kate Middleton, obviously confusing a wedding with a coronation.

"The next Queen of England, will be Prince Charles's wife," I said.

"No, it won't" said a woman so despised in the office that she is referred to variously as Fucking Bitch, Cunt or Hitler, depending on who you talk to (and no, it's not Teeth). "Camilla won't be Queen because she's been divorced once before."

"So has Charles," I said. "Diana didn't die while married to him. You think they'll deny him the throne because he divorced?"

"Oh, no, he'll be King, but they won't let her become Queen," said the Villified One.

This is just bullshit and I started to get a little impatient. "According to the Ascension Act of 1759, the Heir Apparent's wife must become the Queen when the Sovereign dies. It would require the changing of the British Constitution--which is not likely--to wrangle the scenario you are suggesting."

Now, I confess, I made the year of the Ascension Act up out of the thin air because at that moment, I couldn't recall the precise year. But I do know, from my various readings on the Queen and her lot that I am right. And it effectively shut the WalMart girls up, but only because I outgeeked them. It has become rampantly and abundantly clear to me that people like the sound of their own voices (hence blogs like this one) and will happily blather on stupidly regarding topics they know nothing about.

For example:

Last Thursday in the lunch room, Yvette and Two Clowns--for reasons I can no longer recall--were discussing post-mortem disposition. Or, what happens to you after you die. This might have come up as a result of me saying I can't bear to think about being cremated (weird, I know, but I can't).

"You know," said Two Clowns, "your hair and fingernails continue to grow for three months after you die."

"I heard four," said Yvette.

"Actually," I said, "this is deceptive. It's not that the fingernails and hair are growing. What is actually happening is that the extremities--your nose, toes, fingers and scalp--are dessicating, thus giving the illusion of growth. But really, you're shrinking."

"That's not correct," said Two Clowns bluntly, and gave me this superior, condescending smile that immediately make me want to kick her in the chin.

"If you do some rudimentary research," I replied reasonably, "I think you will find it is, in fact, true. I've done a certain amount of research on this subject."

But the dead silence in the room suggested that neither Two Clowns--supposedly a woman of accomplishment and education--nor Yvette believed a word I said. I dunno; maybe it's more fun to think of your hair and nails growing in the casket even though it's not physically possible BECAUSE YOU'VE STOPPED METABOLIZING, and this would become obvious the second you applied any kind of logical thought to the matter.

But it's becoming increasingly obvious to me that they just see me as some kind of geek possessed of a vast wealth of esoteric and/or useless knowledge. And they're right. Most of what I appear to know isn't exactly practical knowledge. I just don't understand how or why they choose to live in ignorance.

People: I just don't get 'em.