Milo's Last Show: A Parable (Pt. 1)

It was a few weeks ago that I first saw the boy Milo, as I was hurrying to my reporting assignment at the United Confederation of Planets headquarters in New York. He was easily the most pathetic creature I'd ever seen: not older than ten years old, a face rounded by baby-fat, and a cowed posture that hinted at many years of abuse, if not physical than at least verbal. To make matters worse, we was bound literally by a leash, which seemed uncomfortably snug around his neck. Incensed, I marched straight up to the leash-holder, a burly Italian-looking man with a whimsically large handlebar mustache. The two were standing on a busy street corner, both passing out fliers.

"Just what the hell is this all about?" I said. The anger faded from my voice slightly as I noted that the top of my head came up no further than the rough man's chin.

"Wha?" The bushy eyebrows above his watery eyes arched up as best they could--he looked wounded. "What ees what about, eh? You come to our show?" He handed me the flier:

The Amazing Baldini Presents: the Human Puppet!
THRILL as his every move is predicted!
FRET as you realize that you, too, are no less bound!
$25 at the door; $20 if you bring this flier

I crumpled it up and put it in my pocket. "Why do you have him on a leash like this? Are you his father? Look, it's digging into his throat." I looked down at the boy but he turned away.

"Wha? No, no, no, thees ees Milo, we do tha show. He has no family--I take him from the streets. Here, look." He loosened the leash on Milo. "I'm sorry Milo--you should have said something." Milo didn't speak.

"Look--just, forget about it, " I said, and turned to walk away.

"Hey Mister!" shouted the burly man after me. I turned around. "You an' me--we no different from Milo. We are on a leash. We jus' never met the man who hold the leash." Rolling my eyes, I once again turned around and walked away.

"You come see tha show! You'll see!" he shouted. Breaking into a jog, I made my way quickly to UCP headquarters, putting the disturbing scene behind me and readying myself for two hours of mind-numbing bureaucratic double-talk.

Late night dorm room conversation time: free will

Seeing these silly posts about free will make me all antsy, because Alex and I totally have it all figured out. It's a pretty sweet package that includes: a conception of time that resolves all time travel paradoxes; a scientific account of free will and how it's compatible with determinism; and cameos by the halting problem, 12 Monkeys, and Being. It blows these childish "we all behave as though we had free will" musings (which don't even involve time travel at all) out of the friggin' water.

Pshh.