Now you've got the chance
You might as well just dance
Go skies and thrones and wings
And poetry and things.
--Neil Halstead

Thursday, July 30, 2020

Breathing Fire

So I saw a meme on Facebook that posed the interesting philosophical problem: "Name one thing in life that could be improved with dragons."

That seemed rather limiting, because the modern world contains many situations where a dragon could be helpful. Particularly if it was one of the telepathic, teleporting, telekinetic dragons in Anne McCaffrey's Pern novels, so that I could direct it to do things without anyone else knowing what was going on. 

Dragon groupie (and collector of miniature animals). 
If you were a dragon groupie, you'd know that there is a big 
debate about whether to organize your books in order of 
publication or in chronological order of the complex, 
multi-generational history of the imaginary planet 
of Pern. I resolved this debate by shelving randomly.

Workplace uses of the dragon would be pretty limited these days for your average office job. The morning commute is not a problem at the moment. Ending meetings early by causing fire drills is not as effective on Zoom/Teams/Skype. Even expediting document approvals is much harder in a digital world. ("So you need another week to look at that document, do you? How about now? Sigh.  <waits no longer than it takes to cough three times for dragon to teleport> Now?") 

Of course, it's hard to give your dragon precise coordinates to teleport when you only ever see people's living rooms/fake living room backgrounds. So we might have to wait on the professional applications of dragons until after the pandemic. 

Everyone on Teams sees my bedroom, because Bob 
only lets me work there. If I try to sit at a desk LIKE 
A NORMAL PERSON, he breaks things and bites.
 If I kick him out, he claws at the door. If I work from
 bed, he curls up beside (and, occasionally, on top of)
 me and sleeps.


Travel is an obvious win. No TSA screening, no worries about recycled air, crying babies, or passengers who refuse to mask up. And the carbon footprint is so low you'll get a personal congratulatory (digital) postcard from Greta Thunberg. Luggage space is somewhat limited, but you're arriving on a dragon. With the money you save, you can just buy a new wardrobe when you arrive. Bonus points if your dragon burns through the roof of Chanel.

A dragon can definitely help you maintain social distancing. One curl of smoke and even the largest and most unruly of crowds will give you 6 feet of separation, give or take a hundred yards.

Also, I'm not sure there have been studies, but dragon fire is probably a pretty potent disinfectant. It may burn down whatever you're trying to disinfect, but there won't be any viruses left when she's through. Just rebuild with sanitary (and fireproof) materials.

Cooking-wise, your dragon can help with smores night, campouts, and fondue. He can thaw and BBQ simultaneously, although you'll want to wrap those ribs in a lot of foil to prevent charring. Cleanup is also a breeze; just keep a water hose handy. 

If you're an extrovert, your dragon is an excellent conversation starter. If you're an introvert, you're dragon is an excellent conversation ender. Everyone wins!

And of course, we haven't even touched on the telekinesis. Tree removal alone could be a profitable side hustle in my neighborhood. And the trash cans would always be put out and pulled back on time.


So many possibilities. Unfortunately, Bob and Daisy aren't nearly as useful as pets. They make messes, refuse to social distance, and sit on my suitcase to keep me from going anywhere. They disappear when it's time to cook or clean (but will absolutely try to eat my food). 

Lucky for them, they're cute.
And pettable. 






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