If a man could explore the entire world without worry of the time or cost it would take to do it, he might consider visiting Great Britain. He might soon after decide to waltz over to London, if only for a few days. Admittedly there is much to do in London for those who have time to spare, and I would imagine that the man would probably prioritize visits to the monuments and pubs. But if our dude were especially daring, he might want to check out some of the odder spectacles. If he did this, someone along the way might suggest that he visit the radio station owned by Harry. If it were the right hour of day, if the man could see through radio stations walls, and if it were 24 April 2005, this is what he would see...

In a radio station on Dudmore Drive, Harry poured himself a traditional English cup of tea. He added the traditional cream, stirred it the traditional manner, and took a traditional English sip. He then realized that he forgot to add the traditional slice of lemon. So Harry got up from his chair and worked his way to the back of his one-room studio to fetch it. But in reaching for the cabinet that usually stored the lemons, he spotted a two-week-old post-it note on the left cabinet door.

Rem. BUY LEMON

But Harry hadn’t remembered to buy lemons, and the problem was that he now needed them. He could buy lemons tomorrow, but by then he wouldn’t need them, and could theoretically only lose through their purchase. It was a tricky situation, and Harry recalled a couple days earlier describing to a friend a similar dilemma involving salt. His friend argued that it would still be sensible to buy the salt because the possibility remained open that it might be of use in the future, if not at the time of its purchase. Harry countered that while this was true, there was still a possibility – maybe even a greater one – that he might not need the salt, or that he would be on a diet where he couldn’t eat salt, or that a salt substitute will have been invented that effectively replaces salt. Harry thought it best to stick with pepper, which, according to health experts, is healthier anyway. When his friend reminded him that you need salt to live, Harry just sighed and told his friend that he didn’t understand what he was trying to do. Anyway, long story short, Harry was right and his friend was wrong. Buying the salt would have been a mistake.

Harry headed back to the front of the radio station. He sat down and stared at his tea, pondering whether he should drink it despite the bland taste. Before Harry could make a decision, the telephone rang and Harry picked it up.

"Hello, I would like to make a song request. Could you play a Gloria Gaynor?"

Harry responded with a cold "no," and then hung-up.

The phone rang again, and Harry answered it. "Could you make an exception?" the caller asked.

Harry hated it when people called his radio station with requests for songs. After all, this was HARRY’s radio station, not their radio station, and consequently it was Harry’s job to select the songs. If other people started selecting songs then Harry wouldn’t be doing his job, and if Harry wasn’t doing his job then what would he be doing? In order to avoid this situation, Harry created a rule that effectively ensured that he would always be the one making the song requests.

"I’m sorry," Harry said. "But I can’t accept song requests from callers, that’s the rule."

The caller breathed a deep hum and smiled. Or at least Harry thought that the type of a hum breathed was a smiling hum. He really couldn’t be sure of the caller’s facial expressions.

"Could you make an exception just this once?" the caller asked.

Harry shook his head. "If I make an exception it will start a precedent for future exceptions. Pretty soon the exception will be the rule, and it would completely defeat the point of having a rule against an exception in the first place. I’m sorry, but no song requests."

"I see," the caller said, "but I can assure you that if you make this one exception, it will be the only exception you will ever make."

"How does that work?"

"Because when the song is over, the Earth won’t exist anymore." The caller breathed another deep breath that made it sound like he was smiling.

---

If the narrator may intrude for a moment, he would like to point out that we humans have a bit of a denial complex when it comes to people telling us that our world is soon going to end. We see this complex most clearly every time an environmentalist says the Earth is nearing its end because of global war, overpopulation or flooding; and we praise him for his groundbreaking research before promptly shipping him to a research station in the arctic where he’ll be sure to not bother anyone else. Justifiably then, Harry was the slightest bit skeptical when he heard the caller’s grim prediction. However, either because of boredom or lack of energy resulting from a two-week sugar fast, Harry decided to entertain the caller’s theory.

"If it is the case that the world will shortly end after I play you your song, you make a compelling argument in favor of my breaking precedent this once to allow you to request it."

The caller seemed to agree, and grunted in approval.

"But," Harry said "I am not so sure I believe you when you say this world will come to an end."

Almost as if expecting the comment, the caller immediately provided a response. "Oh don’t worry, I can guarantee you that the world will end after the song. That is because when the Gloria Gaynor song is over, I will personally flush the planet down my kitchen sink."

Harry started to suspect the caller was a lunatic.

"Why the kitchen sink?"

"Well, I was going to flush the Earth down my bathroom sink, but the problem is that the damn planet is too big and I need a drainage system to cut it apart so it won’t clog."

Now Harry was sure that the caller was a lunatic.

"I’m sorry but I have a call on the other line." And Harry hung up the phone, despite the absence of any caller on the other line.

The phone started ringing again and Harry was afraid to answer it. He hated dealing with weirdos, but he knew from years of experience that out of all the different types of people, weirdos were the most resilient. If he didn’t pick up the phone, this guy would surely continue calling. Besides, it was Harry’s job to pick up the phone, no matter the caller.

"Hello."

"I happen to know for a fact that you don’t have any other calls waiting. I also happen to know that you are sitting alone in a room with a cup of tea that doesn’t have any damn lemon slices in it. Now why don’t you be sweet, and play me my song."

Harry started to get nervous. His office didn’t have any windows, and thus it would have been impossible for an outside observer to see Harry’s lemon-less cup of tea. Equally improbable was the chance that the caller was located inside the office – Harry would have noticed. And so with the evidence available, he made his conclusion.

"Umm, is this God?"

"No this isn’t God," the caller said. "This is Philip. God doesn’t use telephones."

The response failed to clarify.

"Umm, Philip, How did..."

"Oh, I know, the tea crack. I borrowed my sisters microscope to find out that information."

"Don’t you mean telescope, Philip?" Harry replied.

"No, her microscope. This planet is only the size of my fist. Now before we proceed with what I’m sure will be more questions, I would like you to know that I’m getting the slightest bit impatient, and would like my song soon. Please don’t be a jerk about this."

Harry was by now thoroughly confused, and replied with the only response he could think of: "Well, aren’t you being a jerk by threatening to flush this planet down your sink?"

"First, it’s not a threat. And second, the alternative would be to let the planet blow up in my living room. I think my approach is the most sanitary." Philip rebutted.

"Blow up?"

"Of course. It’s common knowledge that if you take a rock, pour in a half teaspoon of primordial ooze and wait some million years, the ooze will evolve and eventually blow up the rock along with itself. My plan was to put the rock in the model volcano I’m using for my science fair project, and let the rock explode. It would make it look like my volcano was erupting. But unfortunately this planet is due to explode before I’ll finish crafting the volcano.

"Our planet is going to explode?"

Philip sighed. "The human race will blow it up. But don’t worry, it happens every time a similar experiment is done."

"But what if we don’t want to blow up our planet?"

"Well I would think that to be very inconsiderate; you would potentially ruin an ordinarily good science fair project. But the decision is not up to you, it is scientific fact that you will blow up your planet."

Harry was worried. "Well can’t you do anything to stop this from happening?"

"I could, but I don’t see the point." Philip said.

"But what about morality? Goodwill between species?"

"Oh come now. Back on Earth when you see two colonies of ants fighting to exterminate each other, do you come to their aid, end the mindless bloodshed? I imagine it is certainly within your race’s scientific ability to do so, but the fact is that you don’t."

"You can’t compare ants to what we are. We are self aware species. There is a difference."

"True, and so too is there a difference between us. You might be self aware, but unlike me, you are not universally aware."

"Universal awareness?"

"Universal awareness is the improved version of self awareness. Not only does universal awareness teach us who we are, but it teaches us our place in the broader universe. It teaches us that the setbacks we encounter in life are trivial. When something goes wrong, we don’t see it as the end of the world."

"But this is the end of the world!"

"Err, you get what I’m saying. It’s all about the big picture. You’re a speck of dust; that’s it. No use complaining about it."

As the reader could imagine, all of this did not set well with Harry. And like all Englishmen who receive information that doesn’t set well with them, Harry became speechless.

"Oh I’m sorry, I see I’ve unsettled you," the caller said. "Tell you what, if you play my song, I will make you the Adam for the next Earth I plan to create. Is that better? When the song ends, I’ll beam you to your new home.

Harry still remained speechless. But seeing that he was left with little choice, he put in a Gloria Gaynor CD and clicked the button that broadcasted it live. The second the CD started playing, Harry heard a click from his phone, followed by a dial tone. It would only be a few minutes until he was beamed into a new world and a new life. Harry stared at his cup of tea, and then casually glanced to his side, only to see an empty salt shaker. One thought crossed Harry’s mind: "Thank God I didn’t buy that salt."

Peace and Love,

Drintr