So here’s the deal: I had met up with arch-nemesis DK of the Ranch Peninsular heresy at The Vine for some cheap beer and conversation (part of a ‘keep your friends close but enemies closer’ policy, if you’re wondering about my fraternizing with the enemy.)  Somehow the topic had drifted to Lee Harvey Oswald’s infamous “defection” to the Soviet Union, and we were pondering whether he had been responsible for Gary Powers getting shot down.  This is indeed fertile ground for conspiracy conversation, and after a few minutes, DK excused himself to get a Killians refill, take a squirt, and undoubtedly main-vein some Hidden Valley in the men’s room.  No sooner had he gone in than the door to the smoking patio swung open and all the lights dimmed as a black hole of vast assininity shambled out.

He was in his mid-30s, had scruffy, unwashed black hair down to his shoulders, and hadn’t shaved in maybe a week.  He had on a beat up black leather biker jacket, the kind Brando made famous in The Wild One.  Ol’ Boy was two-fisting his liquor: beer in one hand, double-shot of single-malt whiskey on the rocks in the other.  I gather he’d been on a bender since Thanksgiving.

This, of course, was Malcolm.

“Soooo,” he announces to the Smoking patio at large, which currently consisted of myself and some other anonymous patron trying to mind his own business, “what’s, uh,,, what matter of, uh,,, topic of,, erm,,, conversation,,, um,,, happens to, uh,,, is, uh,,, occupying your, um,,, your minds tonight, uh,,, gentlemen?”

Wisely, the other guy out there kept his mouth shut, but for some reason my mind suggested that this could be fun.

“Well, ” I began, “you just missed out on a debate over whether or not Lee Harvey Oswald was involved in Gary Powers getting shot down.”

“Oh,” Malcolm responded sagely, “I, uh,,, I would have, um, loved, er,,, to have been, uh,,, been part of that, uh,,, conversation!”

“Fine,” I reply, “what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Wow,” he says, obviously shocked that someone had extended the invitation, “So, uh,,, right!” He takes over DK’s vacated chair, makes himself comfortable, and then raises a finger as if to make a point.  “The, uh,,, thing about that is,,, uh,,, ... er,,, ...um,,,  ... ..what was the question?”

“Oswald and Gary...”

“Right!”  he cries triumphantly.  “Oswald was a, uh,,, ... y’see, what most people, uh,,, don’t get about, uh,,, Oswald, was...  ... ...well, he was like, a, uh...”

From this point on I’ll skip the ellipses in his various speeches, but to quote the great Tom-Servo, “Geez—this has more pauses than a Pitner play!”  Put it this way, though: it was very unusual if he could complete a full sentence in one try, and more frequent that he would just drift off into uncomfortable silence.

Very slowly, Malcolm begins an attempt to explain his take on Oswald and the JFK assassination.  At least, I think that was where he was going.  I try to remind him that the topic was limited to the specific incident of the U-2 shoot-down, but he is unswayed.

“Well, the thing is... you have to put that in the larger context.  Oswald was a great guy because he took his fate in his own hands.”  And quick as a limpet, he manages to segue onto the French Revolution.  Doubtless the tangent was connected in his mind to the original topic, but of course I was puzzled by his attempt to rant about “liberté,,, um, equalité [sic: s/b égalité] and, um... ...”

“Fraternité?” I suggest helpfully.

“Yeah!” he cries in triumph.

DK had by then rejoined us, and was surveying the scene the way my vegan friends look at a plate of veal.

Speaking of veal, somehow Malcolm got onto the subject that he was enrolled in the Scottsdale Culinary Institute.  Or, at least, so he claimed.  Some other smoker outside overheard this, and mentioned that he, too, was attending it.

Malcolm: “I thought I recognized you!”

The two of them begin a lengthy diatribe against the school and how neither like it.  Malcolm makes an attempt, with lots of lacunae, about one teacher in particular who he was convinced had it out for him.

“What teacher is that?” the other guy asked.

Malcolm’s pauses became even longer and more awkward as he struggled with the answer.  He was unable to offer up any names.  Also missing was a reply to a simplified rephrasing by the other would-be chef, “well, what class are you in?”  All the while, DK and I are desperately trying to keep straight faces.

At this point, most readers are probably wondering to themselves, “sounds like the guy was just a 50/50 mix of bullshit and beer.  But was he obtuse?!?”

The answer, of course, is ‘like a 189° angle.’  Not only obtuse, but a Brain Police Misinformation Agent.

The best prima facie for this was on another of his tangents, where he somehow got onto the subject of the Crusades and attempted to defend Islam as a pacifist religion.  He had arrived at this startling conclusion by: 

a) reading some book (he cited the title and author; I had never heard of either), 

b) ignoring half of history completely,

c) rewriting the rest

“The Moslems never attacked anyone except in self defense,” he attempted to explain; “The Crusaders had invaded their homeland, so they were fighting defensively.  They never went out and attacked anyone on their own.”

“Ever heard of the Moors?” I ask him.  He hadn’t, of course, so I explain.  “They’re Moslems living in Spain.  A few of them are still around, but not like they used to be.  You see, Islam went on a Crusade of its own to spread the Mohammedan Message; they conquered North Africa, and then hopped over to Spain and conquered that.  They could very well have taken most of Europe, actually, except Christianity made a last stand at some battle in Southern France that stopped them; they then spent the next couple hundred years pushing the Moslems out of France.”  

He was unaware of all this, and I could tell that he was about to change the subject to conceal this fact, but I took advantage of one of his many stuttering pauses to press my point: “If they were a purely defensive religion, what were they doing conquering Africa and Spain?”

Amazingly, he had an explanation for this.

“Well, you see, at that time, the Moslem world was also being invaded by Genghis Khan, so the Moslems needed to set up a defensive barrier.”

It was my turn for a lengthy pause.  Finally, I reply: “Well,,, putting aside the timeline differences here, the Mongols attacked out of the east, and Spain is as far west as you can get.  If the Moslems were trying to stop an eastern invasion, they would have done it in the east, not on the other side of the continent.”

Malcolm was unswayed, but I was firmly convinced: the front-runner for the 2004 Obtuse Awards had already been found.