Keep on reading; my profile is more fun than all the other profiles. But please know that I don't play here anymore, not since the Journals started to show signs of personality disorder. And I'm not The Prospect; I don't really fit that 'available' label that Staff Robot cooked up for me; it just fits less poorly than the alternatives.
If you want, you can write me anyway. Sometimes I get these fabulous messages from fabulous people. And sometimes... I write back.
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Hi. My name is Allen.
You should have been here a week ago, when this profile was a shining masterpiece. But Zombieland premiered, and stole all my best lines about twinkies and civilization, so I had to change my profile once again. It was bound to happen anyway; this profile mutates every couple of months. We mutate, so naturally our profiles should mutate as well. Come to think of it, even zombies are mutations of our fresh and wholesome selves. Twinkies, on the other hand... well I just hope you appreciate the profound message woven into the very fabric of Zombieland: the opposite of a zombie is a twinkie.
But I digress... What is left of this profile now? Yes, where is this profile at? Truth be told, it's in terrible shape. I'm sorry, ever so sorry, but you're about to be disappointed. This is the 47th profile that the OKQ has lured you into this week: another timorous mouse-click foray into the hopeful world of precious connections. You're looking for something in particular. You probably have something -- some type -- likely some *other* type -- in mind. I know, I know, you're older now, we both are, it's not high school any more, and you don't have to abide the words of Meryn Cadell:
You know you're dealing with
someone who's different
And different is NOT what you're looking for
You're looking for those Alpine ski-chiseled features
and that sort of blank look which passes for deep thought
or at least the notion that someone's home
You're looking for the boy of your dreams
who is the same boy in the dreams of all your friends
That was high school and now you're grown up and have distinctive tastes. You can handle an introduction containing an ironically commonplace self-refuting paradox like "I'm a contradiction in many ways," or even the more cynical "I'm different, just like everybody else."
But this time, it's worse. This here profile is owned and operated by an Unnatural Thinker. You've found an outlier who tends to embody characteristics of both Carl Sagan and JD Salinger. Between the two there's so much oil and water that I should introduce my own line of salad dressing. But despite the dissonance there is no contradiction, no self-refuting paradox, not a scrap of lettuce because... sadly... Sagan and Salinger are not speaking to one another. Carl thinks JD is a self-absorbed iconoclast, and JD observes that Carl is hopelessly in love with butt-head science. I've had to put up with these two in my mind for a long time now. Their aloof attitudes and -- dare I say it... outright arrogance -- have grown tiresome.
At least they can agree on the long hair. I may be mistaken for a wannabe renegade, but at least I won't be mistaken for a wannabe conformist. If you haven't already worked it out, the long hair will strongly suggest (or warn) that I am very much not a product of cultural programming. I have had no television, nor had interest in television, since I moved out from my parents. I have not yet seen an episode of Frasier. This has contributed to a very alien sense of morality, and I like that. I like to be sure of myself and yet not fit in. It helps me manage the magical balance of having a big ego while simultaneously being humble.
If you're still curious about me, take my reincarnation placement exam. It's fun, and will reveal a little about both of us:
If you get Dante's Inferno, you can just re-take it. That's the beauty of reincarnation.