THE INTERZINE

Photo by Matthew Stone

I’ve spend the past twenty-four hours locked in my bedroom immersed in The Alchemist, trying to read myself into a better person. The decision came after I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t authored by someone even more profoundly cynical than myself. This is just one of the many steps I’m taking in my attempt to change my outlook on life.

“You should read The Secret,” my mother suggests during a recent phone conversation. My mother is a member of Oprah’s Book Club. “It’s really amazing. It’s all about positivity. It teaches you the power of smiling.”

“Don’t think it’s for me,” I say, blankly shoving another handful of Corn Flakes into my mouth. “Has Oprah suggested any books that make you feel better about yourself by telling you how disgusting everyone else is?” My mother isn’t pleased.

Our conversation continues and we talk about Katie Holms’ haircut and our current celebrity crushes. We both have the hots for Wentworth Miller, the guy from Prison Break. I love phone calls with my mom because I can talk about things I would otherwise be far too embarrassed to bring up.

“Michelle told me that Mr. Gates got fired because he’s a pedophile,” I ask, suddenly remembering this vital piece of information. “Is that true?” This was my history teacher all throughout junior high by the way.

“Yeah, it’s true,” she says with unexpected calm. “You didn’t know?”

“No I didn’t know! That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t surprised. I always thought that guy was a creep. You know who else is a pedophile?” she continues nonchalantly, as if she’s reading me the weather report. “Mr. Ribici, your old basketball coach. Weird right? Didn’t see that one coming. Apparently the girl was nine. Horrible, horrible man.”

It’s now that I recall the numerous times my Under-12 basketball team had ‘team-unity’ camp-outs in this “horrible man’s” backyard.

“That’s gross. Didn’t we see him in church last Christmas? I swear you forced me go say hello to him.”

“No, that wasn’t him.”

“I think it was.”

“No, you’re confused. You’re thinking of that other guy that everyone thinks is a pedophile. I can’t think of his name right now.”

I refrain from saying something malicious and instead think of Paulo Coelho, author of The Alchemist and someone radically more spiritual and enlightened than I will ever be. In the book Coelho says “the universe is conspiring in our favor” and that “the soul of the world is nourished by people’s happiness.” Well, look. I’m doing my best, ok? But it’s kind of hard to be optimistic when practically everyone I’ve ever met is either a two-legged nightmare or someone who rapes children in their spare time.

If nothing else, the book taught me this- “A man’s heart helps those who are trying to realize their destiny, as well as children, drunkards, and the elderly.” The ‘drunkards’ bit makes me feel oddly at ease.