Hey Reid! Good morning! I am in Santa Rosa, California — again. Santa Rosa is to me what Lodi was to John Fogerty. I have an appointment this morning to get the staples taken out of my legs. Will they still be able to call me zipperlegs after the staples come out? (They = the two people who have used that nickname at my behest.) Only time will tell.

Anyway, I’m at a coffee place. I needed to pee this morning, but a dude was hogging the bathroom. When he came out after about 15 minutes it smelled terrible and he looked like an aging extra from the movies Swingers. In fact I think he’d been in there for the last sixteen years since the movie’s theatrical release. You can find an extremely accurate rendition of him above.

It’s a busy day here in the doctor’s office. My 9:30 appointment has had me sitting here for almost an hour and a half, and I have yet to — never mind. It’s 11:44 now, and halfway through that last sentence the nurse came in and removed my staples. If I’d known how easy it was I would have gone down to Sears, bought the medical plier tool (I assume you can get it there), and saved myself a heapin’ helpin’ of trouble and money by removing the staples myself.

The dogs were supposed to visit the vet earlier today, but I had to reschedule because the doctor appointment thing ran long. So now I’m hanging out at another coffee place where I think they roast the beans over burning motor oil. Three older women at the table next to me are comparing designs for a cartoon character — for a kid’s book? — saying things like “Now I know big eyes are ‘in’ right now, but they won’t always be.” I feel too judgmental; I need to stop listening in on their conversation.

Recently Flink was telling me how he overheard a couple people working on a screenplay for a cop thriller, and one guy was describing the protagonist: “He’s like, he’s just like — he’s getting too old for this shit is how he feels!” And the other was like “Yes! Exactly!” And it was apparently a major breakthrough for them. And at first Flink spoke critically of them, but then his dining partner observed how much fun these two were clearly having, and Flink felt bad for his criticality. And I feel similarly. These people are clearly having a lot of fun.

And also this morning one of the people you can meet in downtown Santa Rosa was the dude with stitched-up and pig-scarred legs prancing around in front of a locked bathroom door. I worry that my cynicism comes from the narcissism of small differences.

HEY REID! Greetings form California! I have some great news for you! It’s the dawning of the AGE OF AQUARIUS! Now, what does this super new thing mean to “the man on the street” (i.e., your typical “Joe Six-Pack”, ordinary schlubs like you and me)? Great question, my friend. I wondered the same thing, so I asked a hippie on the street. He was very excited and started to answer the question, but as soon as he opened his mouth lasers rained down from the sky like a multi-colored apocalypse hellstorm and his head exploded into a thousand pieces. A geyser of smoke and fire and heartworms and THC-scented glop shot out of his neck stump and then his lifeless body fell over. The hippie-corpse-on-pavement thud announced the arrival of a spectacular man who descended from the sky on rocket boots. He landed on the rapidly putrefying body and helpfully explained what this sweet new age of enlightenment means for us here on Earth.

Mike: You look like one of the guys from Mythbusters. Are you?

Flink: Mike, I’d like to bust that myth! Although wait…

Mike: What?

Flink: No, you’re not gonna want to transcribe this … to bust the myth I’d have to set up an elaborate experiment, but I’m not an engineer, so we have here a paradox.

Mike: Who are you?

Flink: Who wants to know?

Mike: Pretend you’re telling my mom.

Flink: We having a complicated identity musing going on here.

Mike: Is everything okay?

Flink: I don’t like that question very much. Because either everything is too broad or it’s just slightly passive-aggressive.

Mike: I am not a good interviewer.

Flink: You are a very good interviewer. I’m just a challenging subject.

Mike: So I understand you have strong feelings on Noam Chomsky’s work. Unpopular feelings. Among linguists. We can go off the record if you want.

Flink: I think maybe I should just seize the pen. [Here Flink seizes the pen and the handwriting in the transcription changes.] First, any opinion about linguistics is technically an ‘unpopular’ opinion — or anyways a non-popular opinion. That said, I think his books Syntactic Structures (1957) and Aspects of the Theory of Syntax 1965) are brilliant books. However, his desperation for an abstraction has, I believe, prevented his work from substantive progress for decades now, and I find most of his dogma to be prima facie implausible — regardless of his pronouncements, “science” is not best served by thought experiment and increased levels of abstract analysis of models.

XO, Noam — Flink.

Mike: I think Noam Chomsky is probably a good (if frustrated) person.

Flink: His politics are good, but he has a reputation for … purging generations of grad students. But who knows, it’s all just gossip.

Mike: Do you think he’s unhappy?

Flink: I have never gotten that impression from anything he’s written.

Mike: In general, do you think there’s an overemphasis on happiness? In the culture at large.

Flink: Of course, but what the fuck else are you going to overemphasize?

Mike: I would say skateboard tricks and the Fast and the Furious movies.

Flink: That’s very ableist of you.

Mike: What does that mean? I think you have a bigger vocabulary than me.

Flink: Indubitably.

Mike: Ha ha ha.

Flink: Ableism is discrimination on the basis of physical ability.

Mike: I am having a hard time with this interview. Help me end it on a high note.

Flink: I think you’re doing very well.

Mike: Well, it’s been great having you in the studio today. Take care.

Flink: I apologize for at any point leading you to believe that I had anything interesting to say about Noam Chomsky.