Steve the Lieutenant put me on the medic unit. That was something of a coup, since the third person on the medic is supposed to be an EMT specially certified to assist a paramedic. Usually, I'm assigned to the ambulance unit, which only provides basic life support and thus has fewer gizmos for the uninitiated to screw up and kill someone with. Steve seemed to figure that because I worked with medics way back in the hazy mists of the past, I'm cool to do it now. I didn't argue with him, although I felt a bit rusty at first handling the equipment. Medic calls tend to be more complex and interesting, simply because 911 is more likely to dispatch a paramedic when they think a situation is life-threatening. Steve the Lieutenant is also a Paramedic, and seems to be good at it. He's one of those people who genuinely appear to enjoy interacting with patients, rather than viewing them as vexing problems whose only role on earth is to deny him sleep. Why other people stay in the medical field when they display only irritation at their patients is inexplicable to me.

On that topic, I encountered my first Evil Nurse at one of the local hospitals last night. My non-vast experience in the medical field suggests that every ER has at last one Evil Nurse, a sort of demonic scrub-garbed caricature who wields his/her personality like a blunt instrument, taking delight in the terror s/he inspires in patients and colleagues alike. I believe these individuals so enjoy this aura of supernatural invulnerability that they would wear frightening Bad Clown makeup if hospital regulations permitted it. I leapt to the conclusion that this nurse was an Evil Nurse because she completely blew off a simple request for information in an empty ER in a tone that implied that mere shoulder patches and big boots wouldn't make me anything more than the trained rescue monkey I am. I'm sure she's really a loving (grand)mother and pillar of her community who teaches underprivileged kids to read and donated a kidney to her sister and was having a bad day. But in my mind I deployed a warning buoy next to her face, blinking in Morse Code E-V-I-L-N-U-R-S-E. Sailor, take warning.

Pondering Evil Nurse syndrome, I find there may be an explanation for why someone with such apparent distaste for their patients might stay in the medical field. Working in the ER, the Evil Nurse is assured that s/he will forever be surrounded by a constant supply of weak people. Sick, injured, scared or confused patients make easy targets for her bullying, and worried families and friends often conveniently slip into the line of fire as well. Where else would such a person find such a perfect environment for the natural expression of their desire to dominate and humiliate people? Further support for my theory is found in the fact that nursing is the largest alternate vocation listed by professional dominatrices [1].

Elsewhere in the world, my digital creation of a poster for the fictitious flik Jackie Chan's Death in Venice has brought on a new interest in the wonders of collage. The original photo of Venice featured Susan in the center, wearing a facial expression that she found extremely unflattering. I was surprised at how easy it was to "erase" her from the picture by sampling the background and weaving these textures over her image. Looking over my shoulder at her own Cheshire-Catlike self being slowly purged from documented history, she commented "I'm glad you use your powers for good."

Indeed, there was something ticklishly powerful in taking the presumed objective reality of a photograph and subtracting a human being from it. The cultural revisionists of the Cold War, who Big Brother-like erased entire lives from the public record, must have enjoyed their work. I wonder if they considered themselves artists, or better yet, anti-artists -- subtracting anomalous details from the shared vision in order to help the people perceive the beauty of the whole. A few pesky stray trees or disgraced Party toadies can't be allowed to spoil The Big Picture. They were the authors of a shared fiction.

Speaking of fabricated reality, my fake "Sincam" site is almost ready for a first performance. I spent a couple hours manufacturing a "warning page," a typical introduction page, and a "bio" to lend some authenticity to what is likely to be a short-lived satire. Check out the beta. I'll probably just keep it up long enough to get it noted in some "Online Cam" directories, which should precipitate a scurry of hits from devoted onanists. I hope that their reactions are charitable when they are unable to locate the proffered titties.