Skip right to the evening! The day I think was relatively uninteresting, nothing to write home about, a transition day in some sense.
I went to Spreitenbach to attend Muriel’s brother’s (Lucas’s) girlfriend’s (Daniele’s) birthday party. Muriel met me at a bus stop and walked me to Lucas’s flat’s party room. On the way she showed me this awesome Vader mask I was going to wear later, and unveiled the terrific old top hat, her grandfather’s, that completed her stylish gentleman’s costume.
The party was in full swing! Daniele greeted us and set us up with some beers. We sat down in some squishy chairs and chatted. Muriel introduced me to a couple of fellows.
Soon we got up and joined the crowd at the bar, where we participated in the making of these mixers involving something called Pibb’s. It was tasty. I hung out with one of Muriel’s high school friends, well on her way to being a primary school teacher.
We moved over to the main table, which had quieted down a little bit. Muriel and I immediately got tangled up in a heated philosophical debate about the fate of humanity (heated in the sense of being serious, not a debate for the lulz, but still friendly). The choice was between deontological virtue ethics and my usual consequentialism, and the scenario was a trolley-problem like reduction. There were n people with different occupations, of which m could fit in the only survivable bunker before a comet hit. (n and m happened to be 20 and 12–so the survivors could form a majority in a democratic vote maybe?) From the perspective of the only guy with a machine gun, as it were, how do you choose which people will enter the bunker (if at all!)? The obvious but cold practical viewpoint is to choose those people who are most likely, as a group, to survive in the post-comet wasteland. Muriel thought this solution was deeply degrading to the feelings of compassion that made humanity worth existing in the first place. She thought, “Tis nobler to all die beneath the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune / than to draw forth such a savage choice.” (The quotes belong to quasi-Shakespeare, not Muriel, but I think it’s a decent summary.) Of course I could not accept this–my consequentialist commitment might not be as strong as it was, but to let down all the generations of unborn children (which Muriel thought didn’t have an ethical stake until they were actually born) in this way… I stood my ground staunchly as the debate wrapped up Lucas and another gal, who communicated with us partially in German. At some point, the fire of argument dropped to a couple of smouldering argument-embers, and the party continued as usual :D Met a goofball at the bar, bent on traveling the world, and a couple of “Canadian” Swiss gals who’d studied in Toronto.
Then Muriel and I got our picture taken with a Polaroid-maker that was floating around.
Soon it was time to head to the Fasnacht festival.
Walked out with Muriel sharing a whiskey and coke and talking about our past lives and our perceptions of human nature. I don’t know why, but these kind of walks stand out to me as among my loveliest experiences–the Zen of perfect System 1 being and conversation, reinforced by the feeling of going somewhere, the sweet cold air swirling around.
The Fasnacht was actually really close. It was being held in the old (middle?) school. After dropping our stuff in the coatroom, with a little give and take to find Muriel’s phone and get it safely in my pocket, we headed into the crush. Think a big cafeteria hall with a stage, and a big bright brass band up on the stage blaring away. Think crazy bizarre costumes, think halfway between Halloweeen and a themed prom.
After chatting with a buddy of Muriel’s, we started dancing (mostly swing stuff, it did work to the music!) A continuation of the System 1 Zen of the walk washed over me. We probably danced for a pretty good while before deciding to get a coffee (of course, spiked with vodka, jeez). There, facing off, each with one leg slung over the bench on one side of a picnic bench, the philosophical embers flared and caught. It was kind of surreal, discussing the end of humanity on the picnic bench surrounded by revelers, hands together and words so vividly apart.
We slowly drifted back to our other musings and went back dancing. There was more room now and we swung ourselves out on the groove, getting fancier with each song. Breathless and awesome, we whirled around and around, and at last sat down. There the debate collapsed to lulz, as Muriel exposed the conversation to four or five different WhatsApp threads. We sat there a good while–the atmosphere of colorful revelry, disco balls and costumes, dancing and music, was quite something.
At last, we went back to Muriel’s house–she had, in the interrim, invited me to stay in their guest room, since it was really late. Exhausted we should have been, but instead we were hungry, and decided to make ourselves pasta ;) We chopped shallots and tomatoes, cooked them, and added cream and spices. It was really good :D
Muriel set me up with a toothbrush, and as she was removing her eyeliner decided to put a blob on me, which I totally forgot about the next day until it started to run down my eye :P Finally crashed out in the very cosy guest room.