Just Off Center

I have the first 200 digits of pi (3.14159...) tattooed around my left bicep. I love my tattoo. It makes sence to me, it's unique, and above all it seems to serve as beacon to the stupidest people on Earth. Yes, it's a little weird I suppose to have a bunch of numbers permanantly inked into my flesh. But it has a definite meaning and I'm getting a little tired of explaining it. If someone is really interested, that's one thing. But most people are just looking for a reason to point out my deficiency at social conformity. It's always the same fucking discourse:

"Whoa, what's that on your arm?"
"It's pi"
"You mean like math?"
"Yes that's right, like math..grumble"
"LOL OMG ROTF"
"..."
"What made you wanna get that?"

At this point I tell them whatever comes to mind to end the discussion as quickly as possible. One more person I have to hate. What the hell is it about my ink that makes people so curious and prone to mockery? Do people think that because I have numbers on me that I'm not going to beat them to death with their own severed femur should they offend me? Should I maybe have gotten a spirally tribal tattoo or some naked chick like most everyone else? Hey maybe some barbed wire would be cool, right? And ladies, how about you get a cute little butterfly right above your asscrack. That'd be original. I hate everyone.

But by far the most annoying response to my tattoo happened about six months ago in The Great Indoors (a store that kicks crateloads of asss by the way). Nina and I were picking out curtains (god.) when this little, late-forties saleswoman approaches me in wonder. Unlike the retarded masses she was most impressed with my tat and wanted to know what my inspriation was. True it's the same question as "why'd you get that?" but her intentions seemed pure. So I told her and she asked me a question I'd never heard and now wish I never had.

"Have you heard of Kryon?"

Kryon? What's this Kryon you speak of? Is he a mathemetician? Is it a band? I suppose the answer is no, I never have. Big fucking mistake. because now this woman, whose purpose here is to sell curtains don't forget, starts telling me about this angelic and, of course, invisible being who apparantly lives off of one of the rings of Saturn or something and has channeled his message of love and peace through his followers here on Earth. Holy. Living. Fuck. I'm cornered by a fucking new age cult follower.

I managed to escape with only a slightly filthy feeling. So I went home and did a little research on this Kryon. And this isn't even a good cult. The premise of it is such obvious bullshit that I can't imagine anyone would follow it. Even the Branch Davidians had at least a partly plausible credo. Honestly, you've got to check this shit out for yourself to believe it. It's the kind of thing that you'd expect to be sharing convention space with Romanticon. And the most disturbing part of this is she instinctively thought that I was a follower of this new age garbage. It was a sad moment in the life of Mike, to be sure. Still, my tattoo rocks fucking ass and it helps me spot the people I wouldn't have liked in the first place. Plus it gives me something to read while I'm trying not to come too soon.