My Encounter with Pangloss

Day 1,330, 09:33 • Published in USA USA • by Gnilraps


Department of Twisted Allegory
Day 1,330 of the New World
"The big print giveth and the small print taketh away. "
— Tom Waits
With apologies to Leibnitz. (Or should I apologize to Voltaire instead...)
Every day around 6:45p, I go on walkabout. Every man needs walkabout. The fact that I didn’t get mine at age 12 is probably why I demand it at age 25.

Mostly, walkabout is a few moments during my evening constitutional (6 miles at 5:50 pace) when the weight of the world actually lifts. It’s usually good for about nine-and-a-half minutes, or my two fastest miles.

But today was different.

Actually, to say “today” is a bit of a misnomer, because my concept of what leads one consequence into the next has altered considerably since meeting up with the good Professor of Econo-Militaro-Medial-Javal-MMORGial-omics Plato.



I was not expecting to encounter a world famous Dr. like Plato while footing out my Tempo Run at 2:57 per Kilometer.

But there he was keeping pace with me, a well-tooled athlete. That fact alone commanded my attention.

He explained to me without a pause in his breathing that I was “playing the best of all possible social browser games in this, the best of all possible set of circumstances.”

I had to know more so I resolved my body to follow my mind and I pressed on.

“How can you say that, my dear Plato?” I asked. “The best of all possible games disappeared long ago when rather than fixing the crashing issues of V.1., you decided to just make up a whole new game and compel us to play it instead by using cheap digi-knick-knacks, giving us worthless digi-companies, and leaving us with a totally broken f*cking economy. I was not interested in finding the best of all possible social browser game, I just wanted to hang onto my ‘worker skill.’ Why did you take that away you bastard?" (The word “bastard” always sounds way less incriminating when huffing out a 1:12 / 440 in the middle of 6 miles.)

And that is the moment when, for me, time began to stand still. “But Master Gnilraps,” replied Dr. Plato, “there is no possible program of computerographicologizanationalizitology which would ever result in a better possible MMORPG than the computerographicologizanationalizitology which has resulted in the eRepublik of day 1,330.”

I wavered for but a moment. “But you said the same thing on day 1,297 when you demolished worker skill.”

“Yes of course. That day we saw the best of all possible changes. Today we see the best of all possible changes that only today could ever bring.”

Dr. Plato extended his arm…

“Here,” he said as he offered me an energy bar, “gnaw on this while you realize that while you could go play a different game, you will be starting out at level 1 whereas here despite how often you’ve been raped you still sit at level 28 and even though all your friends and subscribers are dead and any article you publish will be impossible to find you still have a slight advantage over the player who signs up tomorrow and works for the same wage you can work for because his salary will be the same as yours…”

“…wait,” Dr. Plato said, “You got me stuck in day 1,297 defense mode.”

I gobbled the energy bar wishing there were a market for them...

“You see, citizen 2019174… I mean Gnilraps," Plato continued, "the changes of today are the best of all possible changes because they have forged the perfect environment for my next set of changes which will truly be the ‘best of all possible’ changes."

“Oh.” I said, as I googled ‘MMORPG’ from my smartphone despite my increased windedness due likely to the July humidity and lack of shade cover during this stretch of my run. “OK Dr. Plato. Have fun.”

I had completed the speed portion of my Tempo run and I watched as Dr. Plato sped off in front of me. I needed to slow to 6:30 for a mile or so, then take it home.

Dr. Plato always just leaves me in the dust anyway.

Gnilraps