Paradox Mind

Quinn escaped to the kitchen, knowing he had made his escape well. The guests were, after all, quite occupied listening to Brian Williams’ enthusiastic retelling of the Lament of the Mute, though few people called the old joke by the name Quinn preferred. He had heard it before, many times, had not found it particularly funny, and happened to dislike especially Brian’s style of storytelling. No, he would enjoy it as much as he was going to from here, chuckling inwardly at the oddity. Though none of the guests realized it, the oral tradition that held their attention could never have actually been orally delivered by its supposed original composer. Quinn was sure the true author of the Lament had purposefully constructed the paradox, the hated creator of this tale must have been a genius, but he knew few others contemplated such things. At least one other man was chuckling to himself.

He shook his head and grinned, turning to the stove. The entrees and coffee table treats being served were approximately as able to occupy his keen digestive system as the banter was to satisfy his ravenous mind. He would make himself some mac and cheese. Turning the stove top to high, he fished around for a suitable pan. The kitchen door opening interrupted his hunt.

He turned abruptly to find Andrea carefully closing the door. Quinn tried to act casual as she turned back. She was absolutely gorgeous in addition to being smart and he was glad she had not seen him spin on her so suddenly.

“You couldn’t take it either, huh?” She asked. Her smile was dazzling.

“No, no I guess not,” Quinn managed with a shrug, reaching back to lift himself onto the counter, smiling awkwardly.

Now, it is often said that in describing relativity Einstein used as an example that an hour looking at a beautiful girl seems like a second, but a second sitting on a hot stove seems like an eternity. Quinn had always questioned the validity of this quote’s attribution to the genius, but in that instant he felt the conflict of two principles in time physics threatening to tear the universe in two as the heat quickly penetrated his jeans and he sat entranced by the beauty before him. Luckily, an instant before his mind became the first casualty in the aftermath of a temporal paradox, Quinn discovered the principle of prevailing relativity.

He would explain it at a later party in much the same terms Einstein was said to have explained simple relativity. “You see,” he would say, “while an hour with a beautiful girl may seem like a second and a second on a stove like an eternity, it is important to note that while the relative time quickening effect of being with a beautiful girl is only by a factor of 3600, the relative time slowing effect of sitting on a hot stove is by a factor of infinity. Thus, its effects prevail when the two forces are set at variance: Prevailing Relativity.”

He would later explain it thus, but at that moment he was somewhat too embarrassed to think in such terms. Needless to say, he quickly leapt from atop the stove with a roar of surprise. Andrea politely hid her smile as he danced about, wishing denim cooled somewhat more quickly.

“Did I just look like a total idiot?” Quinn asked, flushing red and smiling back at her. “Never mind, stupid question.”

“No, no,” she laughed back, apparently not completely disgusted with him and hopefully not pitying him too much. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question.”

Quinn found himself again grinning and shaking his head as he batted at his still warm behind. He had always violently disagreed with the claim that there was no such thing as a stupid question, and he had found that even its fiercest proponents would agree that asking a question that had moments ago been answered was indeed, to some degree, stupid. He had worked out the perfect counter.

“Is this a stupid question?” He asked impishly. She, of course, took a moment to determine what was meant by “this” and he turned away to fill a pan with water and put it on the burner he knew to be hot. She would need a moment to process his response; paradoxes often eluded the understanding of the common man.

Andrea blinked twice as Quinn turned away from her, not explaining at all his meaningless inquiry. She opened her mouth to ask “What?” but Quinn was notorious for demanding that people work such things out themselves. As he busied himself over the stove she fished for any possible meaning in his ridiculous question, clearly he had not expected an answer. How could he expect an answer? She had just explained that there was no such thing as a stupid question so clearly the answer was no, but she had just said that. So why had he asked it if she had just told him the answer? What a … a stupid question. She smiled slowly, seeing what he had done.

“Well that’s a fun paradox,” she smiled, stepping toward Quinn as he turned back from the stove.

“But it’s only a paradox if the assumption is made that there are no stupid questions,” he answered. “So was it a stupid question?”

“Yes, both of them I suppose. You did look very silly.”

Quinn nodded. “Well, that’s about the mildest outcome possible when sitting on a hot stove. You want some mac and cheese?”

“Entrees aren’t good enough for the great Quinn?” She lilted, leaning back against the counter as he turned back to the boiling water.

“Ha, there just aren’t enough for me to eat nearly my fill and leave any for the rest,” Quinn laughed. “Besides, I cooked them, and as the chef have eaten at least my share.”

“Ah, is that why no potluck?” Andrea noted. “You cook for all those who don’t cook for themselves?”

“And only those that don’t cook for themselves?”

“Sure, why would someone who’s fed need to be fed?”

Quinn smiled broadly as he strained the macaroni. “Just to be clear: I cook for all those that don’t cook for themselves and only those that don’t cook for themselves?”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Andrea was growing suspicious that Quinn was working up to something and was anxious to see what.

“So who cooks for me?” Quinn poured the macaroni back into the pan and added the cheesy powder and milk.

Andrea almost snorted. “Well we can already see you cook for yourself.”

“But I only cook for those that don’t cook for themselves.” He stirred happily as this hit Andrea.

She smiled slowly, the corner of her mouth turning up toward a deep dimple. “Another paradox.”

Quinn grinned back and nodded, handing Andrea a warm plate of mac and cheese. “For you.”

“And you actually made mac and cheese. Shouldn’t we get back to the party?” Andrea accepted fork and took a bite.

“Why would we?” Quinn managed around a mouthful. He swallowed hard. “I mean, what are they talking about in there, do you think?”

“Brian must have finished the Lament of the Mute by now and they’ll have moved on to…”

“Their soap operas, their cars, their gossip and drama,” Quinn cut in. “I like our party better.”

“Ha ha, me too,” she agreed.

“One of these days we’ll get together a party where we can talk about philosophy, logic, the nature of time…”

“The purpose of life,” Andrea provided.

“Yea, that.”

Suffice it to say, they did enjoy their party, far more, in truth, than Quinn’s brother and the others did theirs. So much did they enjoy it that they started dating and were married within the year. From that day on they threw the parties they had spoken of, calling themselves and their friends the philosophers. Oh the times they had,

and it’s all true, but I am lying.