July| Vol. 22 No. 8.02 | Christian's Chronicles © 2015 – All rights reserved.
Those who do not regularly partake in the awesomeness that are The Chronicles may not fully grasp the meaning of this episode. Nonetheless, I shall continue with the gift that I am about to impart upon the readers who venture to the hidden corners of cyberspace occupied by these pages. The Chronicles are not written for mass consumption. Those who receive the message shall appreciate it. Those who do not, shall try in vain. Today, the lens of scrutiny is slathered with silver-nitrate. Yet that does not necessarily make me AgNO3-stic!* (See hint! below, if you dare)
The original experience that gave rise to this was: sitting on a toilet seat to find that it is already warm, which feels pleasurable, but realizing in the same instance that the source of the warmth was… well, you get the idea.
I understand even the thought is likely to engender a precipitous mixture of trepidation and obloquy, but occasionally my relentless pursuit of awesome consumes my mind with such totality that I forget:
I know, I know, I should be ashamed of myself. How could I ever forget something so obvious? Perhaps it is just my selfless nature and humility. Always putting the mission first, so to speak. As I try to spread joy across this forsaken world, I tend to forget that I myself am such a blessing already. In fact, upon further reflection (still not AgNO3-stic!)* I only have time to share one reason.
I have improved the English language.
I have done this in several ways, but I will only mention one. I, along with the help of some friends, invented a word. This was necessary, since the English language, embarrassingly, was without the means to describe the awkward feeling of an instance of pleasurable sensations that are almost immediately washed away by thoughts of disgust and impropriety, all caused by the same stimulus.
The original experience that gave rise to this was: sitting on a toilet seat to find that it is already warm, which feels pleasurable, but realizing in the same instance that the source of the warmth was… well, you get the idea. Be honest, it has happened to you (if you have done the deed on a less-than-completely-private toilette seat more than a few times). And while the warm sensations are physically enjoyable, the thought of what touched that lovely lukewarm throne of your derriere just before you sat on it, which gave rise to those gentle, soothing, warm sensations you are now experiencing, is a little… disturbing. I called this:
I further elaborated on this to expand the notion to other experiences with similar logical features. For example, on occasion you may find yourself at the gym, perhaps, minding your own business doing your workout, when your attention momentarily drifts toward the shapely hindquarters of someone on a stair-master, in form-fitting attire. Upon further exploration, you realize that this thief of your concentration is not age-appropriate. Hence: Quochitta.
Note that Quochitta could also refer to a slight-Quoch in a different sense, such as something that does not quite result in sensations of the same intensity.
At any rate, that is the story of the word I invented. It is also one of the many reasons why I am awesome. Now, (*hint!) here is an image for the chemical composition of silver nitrate, which is of course used in the making of… well, you know how to use WikiPedia, right?