It's almost August now. Which means it's time for the dying to start. You notice it in the weather first, as summer begins to die. Eventually, the trees go with it and the now-homeless birds fly south to die on some filth beach with a name no one but the locals can pronounce. Without birds to fly in it, the air starts to die*. The atmosphere seizes up and collapses in upon itself, dying. Which causes the world to slightly implode. Not enough to kill us, just enough to rob us of several thousand radial miles. That's why airline prices go down. It's not that less people are flying; the planes just don't have to travel as far.
*(That's how it really gets cold, you know. All the important scientific documents lie to you, as most anything important or scientific will do. See, air is cold. That's why it cools you off in the summer. So, keeping in mind that heat rises, the true explanation for the cause of winter is that dead air, unable to support itself, falls to the ground. Thus, cold. If you doubt me prove me wrong. I will throw so many mathematical equations at you that your spine will snap under the pressure of my cosigns and Newton's Laws. Swine.)
The time for Unspeakable Fear and Horror is upon us. This is the time of year where we all start to worry unreasonably. Will the economy rebound? Will gas prices become sane again? Will deadly cosmic radiation raise the dinosaurs from the dead? Will my friend's virginity be taken prematurely? Will horrible rock monsters climb from the depths of the Earth and sodomize me repeatedly?
We as a race are Cosmically Inclined to be paranoid. It's not instinct or subconscious what-have-you. The universe forces us to do it. It's a paralyzing fear of mine that there are invisible, highly sentient organisms living all around us. They control us as we control trained animals. "Laugh at the joke," they command us. That's why we find stupid things funny. "Be afraid of that snake." "Fall in love with that boy."
But that would make me a Paranoid Psychotic. So I don't pay much attention to that particular belief. Instead, I focus on Universal Truths. Such as the fact that I spent an hour and a half watching penguins die. No, it wasn't time for my bi-annual trip to Sea World. I'm talking about the horrible farce that is March of the Penguins. Perhaps you've heard of it? It's the new documentary about, you guessed it, penguins.
This is no Disney tale about innocent penguins scampering about the ice and WHOOPS accidentally falling in a comical manner. No. This is about penguins attempting to overcome death and somewhat succeeding. The producers of this movie did a very good job at fleecing us all. Scores of parents will bring their children to this film only to realize too late that no amount of pizza and skeeball in the world will make up for the scars their children will suffer at the sight of baby penguins freezing to death. Laugh all the way to the bank, Producers. You've destroyed an entire generation of minds far worse than all the Terrorist alerts and Anthrax scares of the next twenty years could possibly hope to do. Thanks a bunch.
In all likelihood, March of the Penguins will be nominated for an Oscar, based on sheer Recognition Factor alone. Which should be a crime in most states. If there were any justice, good God-fearing Christians would throw all the reels of this movie onto their burning piles of Beatles records and copies of Uncle Tom's Cabin.
I don't remember why I started writing this now. And upon re-reading I don't know why I bothered in the first place. My brain is broken.
*(That's how it really gets cold, you know. All the important scientific documents lie to you, as most anything important or scientific will do. See, air is cold. That's why it cools you off in the summer. So, keeping in mind that heat rises, the true explanation for the cause of winter is that dead air, unable to support itself, falls to the ground. Thus, cold. If you doubt me prove me wrong. I will throw so many mathematical equations at you that your spine will snap under the pressure of my cosigns and Newton's Laws. Swine.)
The time for Unspeakable Fear and Horror is upon us. This is the time of year where we all start to worry unreasonably. Will the economy rebound? Will gas prices become sane again? Will deadly cosmic radiation raise the dinosaurs from the dead? Will my friend's virginity be taken prematurely? Will horrible rock monsters climb from the depths of the Earth and sodomize me repeatedly?
We as a race are Cosmically Inclined to be paranoid. It's not instinct or subconscious what-have-you. The universe forces us to do it. It's a paralyzing fear of mine that there are invisible, highly sentient organisms living all around us. They control us as we control trained animals. "Laugh at the joke," they command us. That's why we find stupid things funny. "Be afraid of that snake." "Fall in love with that boy."
But that would make me a Paranoid Psychotic. So I don't pay much attention to that particular belief. Instead, I focus on Universal Truths. Such as the fact that I spent an hour and a half watching penguins die. No, it wasn't time for my bi-annual trip to Sea World. I'm talking about the horrible farce that is March of the Penguins. Perhaps you've heard of it? It's the new documentary about, you guessed it, penguins.
This is no Disney tale about innocent penguins scampering about the ice and WHOOPS accidentally falling in a comical manner. No. This is about penguins attempting to overcome death and somewhat succeeding. The producers of this movie did a very good job at fleecing us all. Scores of parents will bring their children to this film only to realize too late that no amount of pizza and skeeball in the world will make up for the scars their children will suffer at the sight of baby penguins freezing to death. Laugh all the way to the bank, Producers. You've destroyed an entire generation of minds far worse than all the Terrorist alerts and Anthrax scares of the next twenty years could possibly hope to do. Thanks a bunch.
In all likelihood, March of the Penguins will be nominated for an Oscar, based on sheer Recognition Factor alone. Which should be a crime in most states. If there were any justice, good God-fearing Christians would throw all the reels of this movie onto their burning piles of Beatles records and copies of Uncle Tom's Cabin.
I don't remember why I started writing this now. And upon re-reading I don't know why I bothered in the first place. My brain is broken.
Every time I read an entry from you, my teeth ache afterward from the sugary sweetness spewing from your words.
I don't think I can take it anymore.