Ancestors are weird
Ana, who sent me some feedback in a previous blog, reports in her blog that she's from the Heard and Mcdonald Islands. Heisenberg uncertainty jokes aside, I think that it's outstanding. No, not because people from all around the world are reading the malicious bullshit that I call as my personal brand of thought. But the Heard islands...I hope that isn't a typo because it would be a complete bummer to go back to complete anonymity again after I've sat for a whole two minutes basking in the fame of having islands named after me. Well not me, of course, since I obviously didn't do squat about them but someone tenuously related to me like John Heard (the sort of famous actor that hardly anyone knows about).
I know a lot of people probably have opposite sorts of problems, "No, I'm not related to Michael Bolton" and things like that. There are quite a few semi-famous professional (and non-famous semi-professional) athletes named Heard but quite frankly it always makes me feel a bit weird claiming them since they're all black and a person only has to look at me to know deep down in their soul that I am the whitest white man on the planet. That and my Alabaman lineage makes me automatically suspect, as if by saying, "Why yes, my great great grandparents had sex with many negros," I'd be admitting some horrible truth about my own nasty racist ways. Anyways, they're right out. I'm tired of explaining that I've never french-kissed my cousins or shagged my sister already. I don't even have a sister, except a step-sister that I've seen maybe three times since my mother married her father when I was eighteen. Where you were born shouldn't have much to do with anything, EXCEPT IF YOU WERE BORN ON HEARD ISLAND. I mean, how cool is that?
Of course the whole thing is puzzling. Everything always is. My CIA factbook, who I suppose we pay to know these things, says that the islands are uninhabited and sub-Antarctic. Ana doesn't appear to be uninhabited, quite the opposite. She even looks like she's attractively tanned. I suppose its time to conjecture that Ana's parents went a bit out of their way when they were looking for a place private to get busy and decided that an almost frozen rock in the middle of the ocean would be a grand place to exchange underwear without any of their parents or siblings bothering them. Maybe they even had a giggle like I did when they noted that the northernmost island is called Shag Island. Seriously, if I were making it up I swear to you that it would have something to do with poop or boners so its the absolute truth.