Aristotle and the ancients and shopping at the agora and awkwarness

This post is probably going to be one massive betrayal of The Nerd Pact (in which those of us so afflicted with generally socially-unacceptable-in-mainstream-American-culture interests like debating which form of lightsaber combat is most superior [I am very much inclined to say Form III, because, hey, that was Obi-Wan's form and we all know he was the greatest Jedi ever--bar Yoda, of course--totally destroying Anakin's whiny dark-side-ass and just being generally amazing] all agree to attempt to somehow assimilate into society without completely alienating all those who belong to the truly uncool masses and don't spend their days daydreaming about attending Harry Potter conventions), but it's not like anyone who reads this blog isn't already aware of my astounding degree of geekiness anyway, so I guess it's all good.

That was a really terrible sentence. I'm such a hypocrite. I was all on Virginia Woolf's ass not that long ago for being a semi-colon whore and here I am using parentheses without much of a second thought and making long run-on sentences that no English teacher of my past from first grade until now would possibly approve of. But man it's just oh so tempting...

Anyway, grammar aside, you're allowed into this elite bunch of people if you've ever been talking to someone and noticed how it just seems to really put them off a little when there is an awkward lull in conversation and the only thing your brain can heave up to fill it is a bad Star Wars joke.

Like:

-What do you call a bunch of dark lords piled on top of a lightsaber?
-->A Sith-Kabob!

or

-What's the difference between an AT-AT and a stormtrooper?
-->One's an Imperial Walker and the other's a walking Imperial!

I'm just saying that more often than not it usually causes the already-painful awkwardness to balloon and become astoundingly more uncomfortable, where you might have never even thought it possible.

But since I am actually kind of fascinated by the whole phenomenon of awkwardness, I'm going to perpetuate it a little bit more.

I was doing a crossword puzzle earlier and one of the clues was "mall for Plato," and it sent me into a very bizarre kind of daydream that went something like this:

Plato (to Aristotle): My chiton has been feeling tighter and tighter these days.

Aristotle: Too much wine and cheese, eh? Don't exactly have the metabolism of a young Spartan chicken anymore?

Plato (glaring): You would think that you would treat your old teacher with more respect.

Aristotle: Oh, I do respect you, I just think it's far past time for a trip to the Agora. You're looking a little outdated these days, like you were dressed by a Turk.

Plato: Ungrateful wretch.

Aristotle: Just sayin'.

Plato: Well, ok, bright one. If the gods have spoken so directly to you about this season's essential fashion statements, please do enlighten me.

Aristotle: I hear that purple trim is all the rage. It would really bring out the color in your eyes and the subtle pink in your cheeks.

Plato: You know, I would never have dared to abuse Socrates like this.

Aristotle: Also, if you ever want to snag yourself a lady, you ought to trim your beard. It looks like a sheep died on your chin. You can't just always rely on your brains, you know.

- - -

So...I clearly have way too much time on my hands.

I just very much enjoy the idea of the ancients sitting around talking about completely inane things and finding themselves squirming inside their chests at exceedingly awkward and inescapable human moments. Because we all sort of act like they were these very stoic, brilliant people who maintained constant ideals of politics and art and philosophy, but in reality, they were probably just as horrifyingly bad at social interaction as people today are.

I like to think that Aristotle and Plato would have completely understood The Nerd Pact. They would've been like, I got yo back, homeboy. Straight up. And then they would do whatever the ancient Greek equivalent of The Fist Bump was.

Think about it: I bet Plato totally had those moments where he was like shit, did I really just say that aloud? But, see, lucky for Plato, his genius and crap exceeded any sort of ridiculous things he might have said without thinking first, and his name remains unsullied. But if we were able to dig deep into all the sordid affairs, I'm sure that all those great minds would probably look a little bit pathetic (ultimately sympathetic?).

Like, Aristotle is thought of to have all this finesse and whatnot, but I bet that at some point during his life, he wished that he had some kind of dictionary for interpreting relationshipy things. I bet that there were times when he was talking to a potential Mrs. Aristotle or something and he made a complete ass of himself and there was no indication of any sort of brilliance. I think it's something that probably has been a human standard across the ages...idiotic conversation with potential mates, that is (or just other people in general).

Maybe there was some kind of ancient equivalent of Loveline that they could contact for all the answers. Instead of Dr. Drew there could be Dr. Oracle or something. Dr. Delphinator. I don't know. My gut feeling is that thousands of years ago people were still just as pathetic as we are now and that is not something that is likely to change...ever.

So, next time you're at the mall, just think to yourself, years and years and years ago, Plato was at the Agora doing the same thing. And hey, maybe take some kind of comfort in that. Or just be disturbed by it. Or just buy a fresh-baked pretzel and don't even think about it at all.

Just do whatever the hell it is that gets you through the day and this bizarre and awkward thing of human life.