perfectlydarien.com - Investigative Reports! (Societal Decay)

Investigative Reports

Face it. Society is decaying.

Now it's time to find someone to blame for it.

I know what you're thinking. You have a busy life - what with work and sleep and watching TV, there's just no time for little things like solving all the world's problems. But rest easy, citizen, because perfectlydarien.com will take up the reins for you. We've made it our mission to ferret out evils, to expose the dark underbelly of modern civilisation and figure out exactly what went wrong. Because perfectlydarien.com may seem to be a mild-mannered website, but it is, in fact, a star-spangled crusader for truth, justice, and the American way. And you aren't. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, bub.

Part One: Thinking Like Decay

They are becoming one with the fall of civilisation

That's not, of course, to say that solving the sticky problem of who's to blame for societal decay is going to be easy. To prepare for this job, I had to think like decay. I had to become decay. For me, this was a simple task. I cleared my mind, began humming like those weirdo Indian monks who can punch a hole clear through the moon, and envisioned decay. "I am the decay", I said to myself. "I am the decay. Rotting, festering decay, wearing away at the roots of society, tearing down its values, and eventually leading to things like social collapse, civil unrest, and Kangaroo Jack."

It was around this point that my wife started to get a bit freaked out. My research was put on hold for a few hours as I tried, probably in vain, to convince her that I wasn't going either insane or goth, and that she didn't really have anything to worry about. I told her that it was an "internet thing," thinking that this would assuage her fears. Strangely, it seemed to make her more alarmed than she had been. I returned to my work with a heavy heart, knowing that I would be sleeping in the living room for the next few nights. And that I needed a fresh approach. A new angle, if you will.

Part Two: The Root of the Problem

Look out, Mr. Happy Tooth! You're being attacked by stupid animation!

I needed to consult an expert. An expert in the field... of decay. But who, thought I, knows more about decay than your average world-famous webmaster? Of course! The answer was as easy to find as that picture I ripped off from some web site or other: a dentist. Actually, the answer was a lot easier to find. You have no idea how many pages of nasty-looking dental messes I had to wade through in oder to find one silly little cartoon of a happy tooth being attacked by the evil Plaque monsters. I'd recommend against trying a Google image search for "tooth decay;" I'm going to be having nightmares about people with nasty, brown, crooked, rotting teeth - you know, the British - for weeks.

So I called the dentist. I tried passing myself off as a student collecting information about decay for a term paper, but the receptionist didn't believe me. I guess my deep, masculine voice was a giveaway. I figured that the direct approach was probably best. Transcript follows:

Me: I would like to schedule an appointment.
Receptionist: Okay. The earliest I can get you in would be... two weeks from Thursday. Is that okay?
Me: It's kind of an emergency. Is there any way we could move that up?
Receptionist: I'm sorry, sir. Thursday is the earliest opening. I'll call you if we have any cancellations.
Me: But don't you understand? That two weeks could spell doom for all of us!
Receptionist: ... umm...
Me: Nevermind that part. I suppose it'll cost extra, though, won't it?
Receptionist: Why?
Me: Well, this appointment isn't just for me. It's for all society.
Receptionist: Excuse me?
Me: All of society. There's some serious decay here, and I need to get to the bottom of it. Do you think my insurance will cover this?
(Click)

Needless to say, I thought the way she hung up on me was pretty unprofessional. And to make matters worse, she hung up on me again when I called back! And she kept hanging up on me all afternoon. Finally, though, the police came to find out what was going on, and I'm sure they'll take care of it. And they said, no, my insurance probably wouldn't have covered it anyhow.

On to the next page!

Questions, comments, suggestions, or insults? Send them right along to darien@perfectlydarien.com