The Rarely Asked Questions 2017

Happy birthday to people who were born on the same day as myself! Today I'm celebrating by playing the RAQ: the Rarely Asked Questions. Everything here was submitted by people who swear they've never asked these to anyone else before. I will do my best to give them an adequate first answer. Feel free to judge my adequacy in the Comments.

Mris asked, "What is your favorite kind of roof?"

I like the Heroic Shingle package myself. The shingles seem sturdy enough for people to run across, but in case of antagonism, slide conveniently to a steep fall. This would be unappealing if it ever killed a noble soul, but such souls always catch the lip of the roof or a ladder, whereas villains fall to serious spinal injury. It’s a fine trope and it keeps your attic dry.

Mary Garber asked, "Which Firefly character would you want reincarnated into your pet cat? The one who would be watching you sleeping?"

Recognizing that I have a highly dangerous allergy to cats, I doubt I’ll be spending more than one night in the same room as any of the Firefly reincarnates. But Alan Tudyk is a very versatile actor, so I think he’d do the most dynamic job playing the animal whose dander kills me. Hopefully he gets nominated for some award over it.

Elephant's Child asked, "What colour is your mind, and does it attract prejudice?"

I believe it to currently be somewhere between a deep purple-blue and pink, although I’ve not had a good look at it. Given it attracts conflict on a regular basis, prejudice is a natural byproduct of its workings. I do my best to dispose of the prejudice safely.

Popful Frost asked, "So, you find the love of your life, the absolute most perfect match possible for you. Problem is, their head is a giant, disgusting insect or arachnid. What kind of creepy crawly would be least terrible for this person to have for a head?"

I’m not so surprising that they have a bug for a head. I’m more surprised they exist as I’m aromantic and asexual. Somehow they pierced my very identity, though, and I’ve fallen in love with a China Mieville character. The heart wants what it wants, and now it wants a bug head in addition to oxygenated blood.

I’ll pick the Samurai Beetle, as I enjoy pareidolia and my new BAE will get some great double takes around town.

Jamie asked, "In several languages, (such as in French, pomme de terre) a potato is an earth-apple. So what would be fire-apples, water-apples, and air-apples?

I had too much fun with this question! They’re tricky because not much produce grows in underwater, and an apple already grows up in the air, on the limbs of a tree.

But the easiest is a fire-apple, which would be a ghost pepper, because of how intensely it burns one’s mouth.

For your underwater round food item, I offer the humble clam as a water-apple. Edible. Pickable. Vaguely round.

That still leaves us with an air-apple. If we can’t pick actual apples, then what’s up in the sky? Clouds seem wrong. But if you’ve ever seen Mars in the night sky, it’s quite apple-like.

And Jamie also asked, "If you could spend a year living with any alien species, which would it be and why? Anything you would most want to see/participate in/eat during your visit? Assume non-prohibitive space travel, and either a hospitable environment or access to comfortable adaptive gear."

It’d be pretty cool to discover any of them existed! If I get to select any fictional species, I’ll go with the xenomorphs from Alien. Because I have to get to live with them for a year, they can’t kill or impregnate me. I’d be fascinated to the watch the buggers adapt to presumably to having to keep me fed and unmurdered. It’d be funny if they got reverse-Stockholm Syndrome and by the end of the year missed that one mammal that got away.

And Jamie also asked, "What's a question that you wish were part of standard small-talk?"

It's tricky formulating a question that won't backfire. For instance I could have everyone small-talk about the last short story they enjoyed, but in my attempts at small-talking this myself, it turns into them ragging on the form. I'm imagining this custom won't revolutionize the culture into suddenly liking a thing in order to be prepared for common chatter.

So I'll pick, "What political issue is most important to you?"

Some people will shrink from this. But this way people with atrocious attitudes are immediately outed, and I have no issue walking away from small-talk with a bigot. Meanwhile more interesting people will get to unpack something that actually matters.

If the experiment turns out dull, I can easily distract them by asking why they're disappointed with the most recent TV show they insist I watch. People *always* want me to watch shows they're complaining about.

Mishell Baker asked, "Can you crack an egg without it exploding and if so how?"

Once upon a time I was great at it. Now I cannot crack an egg without at least some of the shell materializing in the blender. I could do it in another room. Hell, I could do it in a remote cabin, and somehow that shell would wind up back home, waiting to add an unwanted and sharp surprise to my next scrambled eggs.

And Mishell Baker also asked, "What color is the number 7 to you?"

On my mind's way to saying I didn't have an answer, the text in my head appeared a particularly deep and dark purple. Not sure why! But now it's stuck that way.

And Mishell Baker also asked, "What's the last thing you hung on a doorknob?"

Perhaps a boring answer, but rubber bands. Since my childhood, a doorknob has always been the official rubber band holder.

Finally, Margit Sage asked, “If you were locked in a jail cell with three zombies, a plastic hanger, two pieces of watermelon bubble gum, and a roll of duct tape with only four feet remaining, how would you escape?”

I imagine I’d exit the cell lodged in the intestinal tracts of the zombies after they were let out. I bet they got a better lawyer than I did.