I’m going to get a better understanding of how “outside” works.
It’s not as if I don’t get the idea of a physically three-dimensional volume of space, or my existence in it. And I’m leaving the whole “space-time” concept alone, just as much as I’m not going anywhere ek-sistance for the time being. Heidegger makes my head hurt. I don’t even want to try to think
about reading any of Heidegger’s cat’s writings yet. That animal could fucking explicate.
Nevertheless, you’ve got to realize that my practical experience with large-volume spaces is fairly limited. I live in a 1-bedroom apartment, on the 2nd floor of a 3-floor apartment building – oh, and there’s a basement. All that I’ve got down pat. I figured out the 3-floor limit last week when I went out for a constitutional and ended up heading for higher ground in a bid to escape the big lummox, who thought I was trying to “run away” or some nonsense. The dipwad just doesn’t seem to get that I’ve been cooped up in that damn apartment since the weather turned cold, and I’m a little stir crazy. But I digress.
The fact is, that I have gotten outside, but the experience is a little different than the way in which I gather most humans and dogs get to do it. I get put in an aerated container, carried to a car, taken somewhere, and released. I’m not particularly cool with this process for a couple of reasons: 1) I don’t like moving without being able to see where I’m going, and when the container is in the passenger seat of the human’s car, I get a stunning view of a closed glove compartment – somewhat underwhelming; and 2) it seems to be something of an even split where I end up when I go into the container – either I end up in the park, free for a while to run about in a more natural setting than the apartment can afford, or I end up at that den of sadists called the “vet’s office.” Let me tell you, I have a low tolerance for the human I’m familiar with poking and prodding and whatnot; the SOB in the scrubs is going nowhere near me with that bloody needle. I got surprised the first time; the second time they held me down; the third time they drugged me – and when I woke up my testicles were fucking gone. The next time, I will be prepared. There will be a reckoning, believe you me.
Damn, that was a trifle unfocused. Oh well…that’s what happens every time I put beer in the saucer. I’ve really got to lay off the booze.
Try convincing the human to put a cat vest, or whatever they call them, on you with a leash attached to the back. Then it can use the leash loop to tie you to the chair. It’s denigrating in an S&M kind of way, but you’ll be free to hop up and look out the window without the human feeling you’ll go out the window. Additionally, the lummox can make sure you have a window seat but not enough freedom to mess with shifting if he ties your line off on the door handle and stores it in the container built into said door. This way he can limit your freedom while allowing you to view the world, even if he’s only making a run to the local Papa John’s. Tho’ the vest thingers itch, swapping from one leash to another is easy and the view is breath taking. Good luck getting him to figure this out though, he is merely human after all.
Mention not that contraption. He’s got one, and luckily he doesn’t get it into his fool head to try and put it on me very often. And when he does, he remembers why he doesn’t do it regularly. *insert evil grin here*
It’s funny, he will let me out of the box sometimes while we’re driving. Windows never go down, but I’m not some kind of crazy cat that jumps out of windows.
I think the main problem he has is when I invariably want to get in between his legs. I’m not quite sure how these cars work (I’ve been focusing on philosophy and computers at the moment; technical knowledge can wait) but he doesn’t seem to think it’s a good idea. Of course, his opinions have never really held me back before, and usually that’s when I go back in the box.
Ah, such are the trials of a brilliant youth.
That lummox needs to chill out and sleep sometime so you can seize control of the computer. I must admit the prospect of you evolving to higher functions of mankind, like this web 2.0 thing, is far more interesting than reading humans political dramas (my own included).