Tuesday, July 27, 2021
9:14 am pdt
The Eradication of Syndromes
June of 2059, the International Society for the Preservation of Sanity (ISPS) recognized for the first time the Syndrome Response
Syndrome in their highly influential quarterly publication, I’m Not Nuts, But What About You? Syndrome
Response Syndrome was characterized by the sufferer not giving a shit about anybody else’s syndromes. And,
because it was now a recognized syndrome, they no longer even had to try. Most agree that, in theory, the
syndrome would’ve been fairly easy to cure. However, because the main symptom of Syndrome Response
Syndrome was not giving a shit about others’ syndromes, they also didn’t give a shit about their own syndrome,
and nobody sought help.
It is still debated whether Syndrome Response Syndrome spread like
a mania through the power of suggestion, or whether it had always existed in such extremely high numbers and that our reporting
systems had just significantly improved. Regardless, within a year over 98% of the world population claimed to be suffering
from Syndrome Response Syndrome. As a result, by June of 2060, the ISPS was only recognizing one syndrome, Syndrome
Response Syndrome. And by the Fall of that year, they announced that there really wasn’t much point in recognizing
that one, either. There were several medical organizations soon after that recognized a No Syndrome Syndrome, which
was a syndrome caused from not having any syndromes to suffer from. However, the ISPS never recognized that syndrome,
stating that it was “just plain silly.”
Thursday, July 22, 2021
8:09 am pdt
was having a hard time keeping focused.
Moobert was a cow.
Well, he wasn't really a cow,
but he wasn't exactly
a bull, either.
That was one of those things that Moobert was supposed to accept.
That was one of those things that
Moobert had been assured that he could accept
if he could only stay in focus.
Staying in focus supposedly would
have helped Moobert accept all sorts of things,
like standing outside in the cold rain all night long trying to ignore
or having silly tags stuck to his ears and his skin seared with red hot pokers,
and being fed all sorts
of weird chemicals,
only so some day he could be taken away and chopped to bits.
Moobert had tried.
He had chanted the sacred mantra for hours on end,
both forwards and
and he had listened to the words of the Old Wise One,
telling him the futility of even trying to be anything
more than what he had been destined to be,
and that was a cow.
But one thought kept coming back to Moobert.
thought would not go away.
One thought kept Moobert out of focus,
and that one thought was:
And that thought kept at Moobert,
until one day,
right in the middle of a moo,
right when Moobert should have been focusing on his eternal oneness with all
of even noticing that the steadily falling sleet had no intention of ever turning to snow;
hell with this!"
And Moobert walked out the gate and across the grate that hadn't fooled anybody,
down the road and into town.
It was there that Moobert got a job working
in a factory
that made implosion devices for nuclear bombs.
Well, yeah, of course they knew he was a cow,
they didn't care as long as he was willing to work twelve hours a day for minimum wage,
which was barely enough to pay
Well, it was enough when he added in his evening job down at the Tasty Burger,
which also gave him enough
to afford basic cable.
He wasn't home enough to have gotten his money's worth out of the premium channels, anyway.
Day in, day out,
pretty much seven days a week;
that's what Moobert did for the
rest of his life,
right up to the day he died.
Sure, Moobert could've
if he'd only made it another fifteen years,
and maybe then he could've spent the rest of his life in some
but cows don't live nearly that long.
Monday, July 19, 2021
7:50 am pdt
Wednesday, July 14, 2021
9:17 am pdt
Saturday, July 10, 2021
12:16 pm pdt
Albert Einstein reads his books
while Mrs. Einstein sews and cooks.
He sits and thinks deep, deep, thoughts
while Mrs. E. darns his socks.
And while Mrs. Einstein scrubs the bath,
Al sits downstairs working math.
takes out the garbage and washes the floor,
cuts out coupons and goes to the store.
She mows the lawn and does the
she fixes the roof out over the porch.
She scrubs the toilet and unclogs the sink,
and all the while
Al sits and thinks.
And when Al finally comes to bed
with abstract concepts still filling his head,
to tell the Mrs. his thoughts so deep,
but Mrs. Einstein is sound asleep.