Part One of the Saga of the Official Bureau of Weights and Measures



Everyone has had a childhood obsession of some kind or another. When I was a kid, it was dinosaurs. I just couldnít learn enough about dinosaurs. When I was a senior in high school, it was the set of standards for weight, measurement, and time. Somewhere in all that learning and playing and chasing high school girls, I found a picture of THE official gram kept in Paris France, and I fell in love. I was simply enthralled by these standards of weight and measure, and the people who controlled them. I began to visit libraries, museums, and various places on the internet, trying to learn everything I could about this newfound obsession of mine that happened to have me completely captivated.

I noticed after a short while that the official gram, as well as the official meter were held in the same city as the official center for time. That city was Paris, France, and my mind had started to brew something horrible. That city was the one place to go to see how heavy something was, how big something was, or exactly what time it was. Of course, my young mind had been clouded with thoughts of power and domination, and I began to play with some numbers. I figured I would need about thirteen thousand dollars to get seven well armed men (myself included) into those buildings and seize control over every measurement in the civilized world.

My research then reached out to local militia groups as well, but soon after I had put together these figures for my invasion, I came across something that forced me into tears right in front of my computer. I found out that not only had the center of time moved to Washington DC, but there was no longer an official gram or meter held in Paris or anywhere! It had been officially decided that the meter and the gram would be determined by the speed of light and the density of pure water, respectively. My plans were crushed, and my heart sank into my stomach and got all digested or something.

I spent weeks trying to forget about my plans and dreams of conquest, and I tried to tell myself that I would just get a good job and maybe get married, but it had no appeal. I wanted power. I wanted the kilogram at my fingertips, the meter at my command, and the time on my wrist. And I wanted the people to fear me, and I wanted them completely at my mercy when it came to knowing how big things really were. But that was gone. It was all gone. My calling had become obsolete.

I spent my mornings and weekends at Donut Palace, trying to wash my troubles away with the milk and eclairs, and I spent my evenings in my room, screaming and crying for the fallen monarchy that was our worldís set of standards. At school, my grades dropped tremendously, and two of my teachers called my parents to ask if everything was aright at home. I was a wreck, and I just didnít care about the world or a damn thing in it.

Somehow, though, in the middle of eating one of those big bear-claw donuts, a revelation came to me; The standard for weight was based on a volume of water, and that volume is measured in cubic units of length, which were now defined to be the distance light would travel in a vacuum during a specific interval of time! And our new center for time was in Washington DC! That meant that by simply taking over the new local center for time, I would be given control over the units for distance, volume, and weight for nothing! I was ecstatic, and I bought a whole bag of donuts, a twenty-four pack of iced tea, and stayed up all night studying, drawing plans, and working with expenses. I was back in the game, and there was nothing left to stop me. I was ready to take on the world and win. I was ready to continue this saga of the Official Bureau of Weights and Measures.