August 07, 2004

The Russian Cats

There are two types of people in this world. Those who get the Russian cats and those who don't. You're either in or you're out. You're either cool or you're not. That's the bottomline. Like it, accept it, reject it, ridicule it. The truth is there and you can't change it.

I'm sure all of you who just read the first paragraph of this entry (or perhaps even the teaser that shows up in the RSS feed) were like what in the hell is this fool talking about, right? Well, I must apologize. My general rule is to never write in my blog after I've drank because I don't want to bore you with incoherence, but when something as awesome as the Russian cats happens, you have to write it down, and for me, writing down is equivalent to posting on my blog. Don't worry. This isn't drunken blabbering. As you can see, I'm typing with a fair degree of accuracy, so one would assume that the thoughts expressing themselves through the words being written are equally sober. Nevermind that; back to the Russian cats.

First, some background - how did we encounter the Russian cats? Well, I was at a party with Lizzy and some of her friends, and we were chatting about really nothing, when the party's host decided to bring out his kittens. Now, understand, I'm not a big fan of cats. In fact, I dislike cats immensely. But for whatever reason, the cool thing was to pet the cats and comment on how cute they were. As all of us were taking turns doing that, someone realized that the one of the kittens name was Svetlana. In our collectively altered state, a few of us found this to be absolutely amazing and were awed by the absolute awesomeness of being at a party where a cat named Svetlana was. The awe was only increased when we realized the other kitten's name was Ivan. Russian cats! Wow! Now this brings me to the point that I alluded to in the first paragraph. The getting of the Russian cats.

If you're really a cool person and I call you at 11:30pm on a Friday night, and say (in an obviously intoxicated voice), Dude! I'm at a party with Russian cats! - what would be your response? Listen up, this is crucial! Your response would be, Dude! That's so awesome, I would totally be there if I could. The responses I got tonight were less than satisfactory; of all the people I called to inform of the Russian cats, only a few responded as described. Let's just say that I found out who my real friends were tonight. People who're cool, people who're down, people who're awesome - they just get it. You call them up and talk gibberish, and they parse that gibberish and realize what content is awesome and what content is bullshit. The other worthless individuals, who are nothing more than wasted memory cells on your cell phone, who just don't get it and respond with bewildered tones - those people suck.

So maybe my conclusion is a bit anti-climatic. But whether or not you think I'm an idiot and babbling about nonsense, you must understand that what I'm saying isn't just the musings of a madman to be dismissed without a second thought. Whether it's due to Russian cats or something entirely different, a chasm does exist between people in our society that can only be explained by the deceptively elusive term cool. So next time you're trying to judge if someone is cool or not, ask yourself this: would he or she get the Russian cats? It'll make your judgment that much easier.