Finding Happiness in Los Angeles

by Oliver Markus Malloy

  David Hilbert

  "We should take astrology seriously. No, I don't mean we should believe in it. I am talking about fighting it seriously instead of humouring it as a piece of harmless fun."

  Richard Dawkins

  "Astrology is a cousin of racism."

  Penn Jillette

  "I don't differentiate much, except in degree, between people who believe in religion from those who believe in astrology, magic or the supernatural."

  Andy Rooney

  In January 2014, after I returned from Germany and told myself NO MO HO because Lucy and Nicole had broken my heart, I told Brian about my heartache. I shared some of my crazy dating stories with him. He told me that I was a fool for dating women blindfolded. He said people asked him for advice all the time. And that he did astrological charts for them, and helped them with life's big decisions.

  He said he could tell me everything about a woman, if I'd give him her birthday, birthplace and the exact time of her birth. Because then he'd do an astro chart for her and tell me everything about her personality. He said he could tell me exactly what she thinks and what she will do. And if our relationship will work out or not.

  He told me that he hated everyone with the zodiac sign Cancer. He listed a few names of historical figures who were famous for their evil ways. "You know what they all have in common? They're all Cancers!" he said and paused for dramatic effect. "I'm telling you, if you ever meet a Cancer, run the other way. They're all evil, psychotic sociopaths. I wouldn't be surprised if Veronica is a Cancer."

  I guess in his mind that made perfect sense. If the stars determine your personality, and the stars you were born under are bad, then that makes you a bad person.

  When you say someone is stubborn and irrational because they're black, that's racism. When you say someone is stubborn and irrational because they're female, that's sexism. When you say someone is stubborn and irrational because they're a Leo, that's astrology.

  Notice a pattern?

  It's all nonsense.

  But I didn't say anything. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. It seemed obvious to me, that all this was his coping mechanism. After his father Danny had unexpectedly died in his sleep a few years ago, Brian was grief-stricken. And he was still trying to process it and make sense of the world somehow. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do bad people get away with the evil shit they do?

  Knowledge is power. He felt powerless, so he was looking for an answer that would make him feel like he was in control.

  Instead of religion, astrology was his answer for everything. He sounded like a religious fanatic, except that he kept saying "the stars" instead of "God."

  Astrology is fun. Every now and then I read my horoscope, and I enjoy seeing if it matches my personality. But I would never stake my life or any important decisions on it. It's just a form of entertainment. But to Brian, astrology was the key to everything.

  I thought that was absurd.

  Astrology is superstition. A remnant of the ignorant dark ages, when people knew nothing about how the world works.

  They believed the earth is flat and the center of the universe. Astrology might have made sense a long time ago, when people didn't know any better. Back then people believed that the stars were gods, with names like Zeus or Mars, the God of war, who had nothing better to do than to watch us down here on earth, and fuck with us. And gods have superpowers. So it would make sense for gods to be able to influence our lives or our decisions. Back then it sounded like there was an internal logic to it all.

  But nowadays we know better. Now we know that the earth is not flat and not the center of the universe. And now we know that the stars are not gods with superpowers, but simply suns and planets, millions of miles away. Big balls of gas and rock, flying through space, minding their own business. Mars is not the God of War. Mars is just a big red rock. There is simply no mechanism by which a big rock, flying through space millions of miles away, is gonna affect whether you're gonna get a raise tomorrow or not.

  Think about how self-centered and narcissistic that idea actually is. Astrology is the idea that this endlessly big universe and all the trillions of planets in it, are only here to affect whether you are gonna have a good day tomorrow. Because all these big rocks flying through space millions of miles away have nothing better to do than worry about you. Because you're so special, and everything is about you.

  The idea behind astrology is so stupid, it's actually kinda funny.

  Kinda like religion. Christians believe that God loves you sooo much... he created hell, just in case you don't love him back.

  But Brian was addicted to astrology. It was his source of dopamine kicks. Addicts are not rational when it comes to their drug. And nothing I could say was gonna change his mind about his drug. If I tried to get between him and astrology, he'd just end up hating me. So I didn't tell him how crazy he sounded. I just listened.

  "Next time you meet a girl, tell me her birthday, birthplace and time of birth, and I'll tell you exactly if she's the one for you or not. I can tell you ahead of time if she's gonna cheat on you or rip you off," Brian promised.

  So he was gonna tell me all kinds of stuff about a girl he never even met. Someone he didn't know from a hole in the head. He was gonna tell me if she's a good person or not, based on something she had no control over: The date when she was born. Racism works the same way, except they judge people on the color of the skin they were born with, not their birthday.

  I took him up on his offer. I gave him Shelly's data. But I didn't tell him anything about her. Nothing. It was a test. I wanted to see what he could tell me about a complete stranger, without getting any information about her from me first.

  He was wrong about pretty much everything. It was just a bunch of wild guesses, that he claimed to see in her astrological chart. His conclusion: "Shelly is no good for you. She's just another ho. And she's a Pisces. No good. You're a Scorpio. It's not a good match."

  Not even that made sense. Because before I talked to him, I had read some astrological charts and profiles online. According to those, Scorpio and Pisces get along great. Pretty much the perfect match. But Brian said that was a common rookie mistake among astrology beginners. He knew better.

  He said you also have to take the Sun and the Moon into account and Mercury is in retrograde and blah blah blah. I could tell he enjoyed talking about this stuff. He kept going on and on about Venus, and Mars is in the house, and Elvis has left the building and what not. Like he was Merlin, trying to explain how magic works.

  "I am comparing your astrological chart with hers now," Brian said. "I can see that your paths are diverging. I can tell you that you will break up soon. She's not right for you. She's just someone you'll be dating for a few weeks. You're not gonna marry her. She's not the one for you. I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but I want what's best for you. You're like a brother to me. I love you, man." he said and chuckled.

  He said he was sorry, but his tone of voice betrayed him. He wasn't sorry. He was proud of himself. Proud that he was able to share his secret, superior knowledge with me. Proud that he was a wise oracle people respected and looked up to for advice. Proud that he saved a close friend from more heartache.

  At least that's the way he saw things from his perspective.

  I thanked him for his advice and the interesting reading. I didn't tell him he was completely wrong about everything.

  Why do people do that?

  Why do people give advice when they have no clue what they're talking about? Brian wasn't the only one who does that. People love to give advice, even when they don't know what the hell they're talking about.

  Like global warming deniers for example.

  They don't even understand what climate is, never mind how it works. But they are convinced they know better than the experts who have studied climate their whole lives.

  Ignorant-advice-givers claim they want to help you, but I think they really just get a
kick out of feeling important and wise. It feels good when people look up to you because they think you're smart, because you claim to have the inside scoop.

  That's why people end up giving you advice about stuff even when they know less about it than you do. Why would anyone heed such uninformed advice? That can do more harm than good.

  Remember those TV commercials for phone psychics?

  They used to have these commercials, where a big old Jamaican lady was all dressed up like a gypsy. She sat in front of a crystal ball she probably bought at Walmart, and she yelled: "Call me now!"

  My ex-wife Donna was one of these phone psychics. Donna used to work for a large company that hired normal housewives like her to pretend to be gifted psychics.

  This was years ago, when I first started making money online. She wanted to make some money from home, too.

  Every week they had a phone conference, and a coach would teach a bunch of housewives the tricks of the trade. He told them that the most important thing was to keep the callers on the phone for as long as possible, because they were paying a fortune for each minute.

  He said the best way to do that was to scare them with made up stories of seeing disease in their future. They'd get scared and ask the so-called psychics to tell them more. Donna and the other housewives were supposed to pretend that they saw cancer in their callers' future.

  Pretty fucked up, huh?

  But it worked. Fear makes people do all sorts of stupid things. Like buying AR-15s, because you think everyone is out to get you.

  A lot of these people stayed on the phone for a full hour, until their phone company automatically cut off the call.

  These poor, gullible people called the 900 number on TV and then their call was redirected to a girl like Donna, who was sitting at home, waiting for the next call to be routed her way.

  It was supposed to be easy money to take a few calls while cleaning or cooking. But it's not that easy to lie to desperate people, if you have a conscience. A lot of them took the so-called psychic advice they received very seriously. Some didn't make a single decision without first consulting with a psychic pretender like Donna.

  One time one of her callers was totally unhinged, and he screamed into the phone: "DOES SHE KNOW?!? DOES SHE KNOW WHAT'S IN THE SUITCASE?!?"

  Donna had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but she had a feeling that there was something really bad in his suitcase, and if "she" found out about it, he might kill her so she couldn't talk.

  So Donna told him with fake confidence: "No, she doesn't know."

  Then he calmed down and hung up.

  Donna might have saved someone's life that day.

  But what if she had said something else? What if she said: "Yeah, I can tell she saw what's in the suitcase."

  Then this guy might have killed his wife or something.

  Anyway, I had asked Shelly for her birthday, place and time. I told her that I had a friend who was really intro astrology and he wanted to do astrological charts for us. She was intrigued. Like me, Shelly liked to read her horoscope for fun.

  A few days later she asked me what Brian said about her. I didn't tell her. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. So I just told her some generic Scorpio and Pisces stuff. Then I changed the topic.

  By the way, if you think I'm a typical Scorpio, I'm gonna slap you.

  LOST SOULS AND SNAKE OIL SALESMEN

  "To hear the phrase "our only hope" always makes one anxious, because it means that if the only hope doesn't work, there is nothing left."

  Lemony Snicket

  "Hence, emerged the blood-sucking professions of astrology, palmistry, vastushastra, numerology etc. The very existence of these fraudulent professions is predicated on the fear and anxiety of vulnerable masses. Thus, a person’s superstitious beliefs become the tool of exploitation in the hands of ruthless fraudsters."

  Abhijit Naskar

  After I brought my car to Los Angeles, I was more mobile.

  Sometimes I stayed home and worked on a book or a new cartoon. It felt good to be productive again. I didn't get anything done in Florida for the past few years. My mind wasn't working like it should. I had just wallowed in misery and loneliness, when I wasn't distracting myself with Fort Myers' wide selection of crackwhore drama.

  But spending time with Shelly had pulled me out of my depression. I think she saved my life. If it wasn't for her, I would have continued down my self-destructive path. I think I would have ended up in jail. Or dead.

  But now my creative juices were flowing again. Shelly was my muse.

  Sometimes I went exploring, until Shelly came home from work. Little by little I got to see every part of LA. I liked it here. There was definitely a lot more interesting stuff to see and do than in Southwest Florida.

  If you ever come to LA, check out Watts Towers. Some guy built these cool, weird tall structures in his backyard. With whatever crap he could find. He spent his whole life building them, and then he suddenly just abandoned them. I like weird stuff like that. Oh, and go see the Jurassic Technology Museum. It's just a bunch of really weird crap. So creative.

  I like museums. Especially modern art museums, like The Broad. Not because I'm really into modern art. Actually I think a lot of it is ridiculous. Like when someone pees on a phone book and then calls it art.

  I think a lot of modern art is complete bullshit. But I admire the creativity. The weird shit people think of! Some of the most interesting things I've ever seen in my life, I've seen in modern art museums. And that's what art is all about. It's supposed to make you think.

  In a museum in New York, I think it was the MOMA, they had a strand of Christmas lights hang from the ceiling. Some of the bulbs were burned-out. But the rest were still lit.

  That was it. That was the art. An old strand of Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling.

  And next to it was a small sign on the wall, with the name of the artist and a lengthy description of his masterpiece. It said that the Christmas strand was social commentary. And the burned-out bulbs represented dead people, who had died from AIDS.

  Give me a fucking break!

  But hey, you gotta admire his imagination. And his entrepreneurial spirit. He turned bullshit into gold. He probably found that strand of old Christmas lights in a box in his basement, wrote a silly description about his deep thoughts, and sold it to the museum for a million bucks.

  Good for him. That's how capitalism works. Selling overpriced bullshit to gullible fools.

  First you make people believe they have a problem, and then you sell them the solution. That's how advertising works. Every snake oil salesman knows that.

  Anyway, if you ever visit LA, check out some of the cool museums. And the glass slide on top of the US Bank Tower. It's the tallest building downtown. When you slide down, you can see all the way down to the street between your legs, because you're sliding on glass, outside the building, all the way up there! It'll make your heart pound! Oh, and go see the Petersen Car Museum. The whole building looks like modern art. Red, with these metallic swoopy lines. Very cool.

  In Century City I found the highrise where they filmed Die Hard with Bruce Willis. I liked finding places in real life that I had seen in movies. Like the ferris wheel at the Santa Monica Pier. It has been featured in a bunch of movies, including Forrest Gump.

  Did you see Iron Man? At one point Robert Downey Jr. sits in the hole of a giant donut, on top of a little donut shop. That's Randy's Donuts. I went there, took some pictures and tried some of their donuts. Hmmm! Donuts! So good.

  In Venice Beach I ran into the lead singer of Weezer. And when I checked out at Walgreens, Hulk Hogan stood at the register next to me, buying a candy bar. That was pretty cool. I was never really into wrestling, but I remember he was a big deal when I was a kid. Some of my friends in school watched American wrestling.

  After a few months, I felt at home in LA. Shelly and I lived together like a married couple.

  One day there was a notice on o
ur building, that they were gonna film a TV show right by us. I was curious and watched. They were filming a car crash scene for Modern Family. Several of the cast members were there. That was neat. Too bad Ed O'Neill wasn't there. I would have liked to meet him. I loved him in Married with Children. That used to be my favorite show as a kid.

  Shelly and I went to Disneyland. And we visited the Warner Bros Studio. They have the set for the Central Perk coffee shop from the 90s show Friends there. Shelly and I were both big Friends fans, so we got a kick out of sitting on the big red Central Perk couch, like we were Ross and Rachel.

  We went on a lot of little weekend trips together. To Balboa Park in San Diego, or to see some of the Cirque du Soleil shows in Las Vegas. Or the flower fields in Carlsbad. And the cute little Danish village in Solvang. And we went to Monterey, to visit Cannery Row, the inspiration for John Steinbeck's famous novel. It was so nice to finally have someone special to go on trips with. I had dreamed about this my whole life.