COLUMN: Papers, scissors, rocks – a complete conspiracy
While watching a hilariously funny episode of “Conan O’Brian,” my thoughts turned to a serious matter that I’ve been battling for far too long: My severe disability to win paper, scissors, rock. To clarify the root of this thought, one of Conan’s guests was the world champion of paper, scissors, rock, which, to most would seem to imply that there is some strategy or skill involved if a champion could be named. Due to my extensive experience dealing with the game not merely for fun and entertainment, but as a serious decision-maker, I dare question this theory.
I do not claim to know what unknown force governs this game, but I do know that it is not on my side, nor has it been since my unbeatable winning streak of winter 2001. Before I go any further, some of you may be concerned with the way I refer to this game, because you might call it rock, paper, scissors instead of paper, scissors, rock. If you do pronounce it this way, you are wrong and have probably been misinformed, but with time and practice it can be corrected.
To fully grasp my pain, you must understand the serious context in which this game is played – well, not played, so much as another word besides played that means the same thing but doesn’t sound quite as fun. No, fun has no part in this game as it is used in my life. You see, I have a twin sister and there are some things everyone has to do, but neither of us wants to do. For many of these tasks, a simple taking-turns strategy has proven effective, such as getting gas in the car, vacuuming, putting money on the laundry card and answering the phone.
More drastic measures must be taken in other circumstances – like going to classes for each other, washing the car and calling Mom. For instances like these, paper, scissors, rock seems to be the only reasonable decision-maker, especially when “pick a number one through 10” may cause others to get involved unwillingly.
When paper, scissors, rock was first instituted into our lives as the primary decision-maker, I was unbeatable. When Lexie had paper, I cut it mercilessly with scissors. When she thought she dominated with the rock, I smothered her with paper. My rock demolished her scissors time after time. Those days have long-since passed. Maybe I got a little cocky, but I don’t believe I could have ever done anything to deserve the unrelenting losing streak I have suffered now for more than a year.
I’ve tried refusing to participate but have been unsuccessful in finding a new game that doesn’t require another person, more than 10 seconds, straws or paper and a writing utensil. There is usually someone nearby who is capable of picking a number one through 10, but I don’t want to risk scaring off any of my few friends by forcing them to decide my fate … or who has to wake up for Creative Arts.
Some might say I have a disability and I can’t say I disagree. My confidence has been crippled and following every loss I exclaim, “This is total crap! I will never play paper, scissors, rock again!” But, nevertheless, the next day Lexie finds some way to trick me into thinking my days of losing are over and the vicious cycle starts again. Is it bad luck? Am I being punished? Or is it psychological warfare being inflicted upon me by my evil twin? Though I lean toward the latter, she mocks me and denies the claim.
Lindsay Kite is a freshman majoring in print journalism. With questions, comments or if you also have a deep appreciation for Conan O’Brian, contact lindsaykite@cc.usu.edu.