T-shirts have a great and terrible power over human souls. I have proof.
Not long ago, I bought a T-shirt from the Achewood shop, as I was so pleased with the hoodie I'd bought there before. I ended up with a charcoal-coloured version of this baby here:
CONGRATULATIONS
A2=B-1
YOU ARE THE
EQUATION OF THE WEEK
Cute, isn't it? Agree, agree without thinking!
Every time I wear this T-shirt out, someone insists not only on noticing it (which is acceptable), but bringing to my attention exactly how much they've noticed it, and infusing it with some kind of numerological significance. I was on a bus; two teenaged girls were sitting opposite. I had my headphones on and was listening to the Violent Femmes. The girls leaned over and tapped me on the foot to attract my attention, and then said to me, 'We really like your shirt, but we don't get it. Does that make us stupid?' Another day, I was at an International House of Pancakes, and the server asked me where I got it. I was going for a burrito at the HUB on campus, and the guy at the register said 'You have to tell me about that shirt.' And my calculus class made me write the URL for Achewood up on the board.
It's just a shirt. There isn't any kind of story to it. There's nothing to 'get': the equation is completely without significance, and there isn't a punchline. The shirt is exactly what it appears to be, nothing more, nothing less. The shirt is in fact much like life.
Perhaps this fascination with my shirt is akin to the fascination with Christ.
Posted by aloysius at August 27, 2004 01:55 PM | TrackBack |