09/22/2020 Snippet, THE THING IN MY HIP FLASK.

Poor socializing!


I am not sure, but I think David began to actively research the goo only after I had made it clear how much I did not care about its origins or composition. But he must have been obsessed with it from the beginning, based on the notes that I found in his apartment… but I get ahead of myself. The point was, the poor man was filled with a terrible need to understand the goo.

I understood this, in a way: but I was able to ignore the peculiarities of the stuff by concentrating on chemical analyses and biological samplings, which all obligingly threw back results showing no exoteric dangers from the goo. Thus we see the benefits of a major in chemical engineering.

Unfortunately for David, his major was in medieval metaphysics. The mental toolbox which he had acquired while pursuing a degree was probably better at explaining things like the goo — but only in rather stark and judgmental terms. All in all: I think I got more worth for my tuition money.

Ironically, if David had not been on the outs with the library for reasons still obscure to me, he might have enlisted their help. I do wonder why he did not; pride, perhaps? Or an awareness that the forces represented by the Special Reading Room did not approve of understanding certain things? Either way, that route was closed to him; so David apparently began seeking out some of the very people who he (and I!) would normally instinctively avoid. They would not be so fussy about who was told what, surely.