Monday, January 25, 2010

Brought To You With Limited Commercial Interruption

There’s a chance the Glorious Revolution is slowly…surely… grinding to a halt. The workday: it is a powerful thing. I’m up to almost sixty percent and, Captain, she canna take no more. Ship’s engines have had to file, collate, and deal with AT&T. I had to use the words ‘platform’ and ‘leverage’ in one breath. Luthor wouldn’t even do that to Superman. What I’m trying to say is, I’m tired. I just put the finishing touches on the second edit of a novel. The brain’s dilithium crystals can manage one more Star Trek reference but they lack the strength to raise shields against The Man.

Aw hell, there’s always room for Jello: Dammit, Jim, I’m a Glorious Revolutionary, not a copywriter for a trade magazine read by account executives (Denebian slime devils). And yet…

And yet I wrote this: “…our exciting new platform of initiatives will leverage experience and prestige with the innovation and creativity of the new generation to bring…”

The only saving grace is those words will never be seen. It was a draft only and turns out will not be needed. But the damage is done. They came from my head. The hair follicles desperately tried to scratch them off the old gray matter but they just don’t have enough troops. I am a geezer at 44. I am not as sexily published as Stephen King; there will be no writing groupies. At home there’s a toilet to put in. Grout to be freshened up. And sleep, whole lots of sleep, that eludes.

They came from my head. Tiny little Tom Cruises. The Glorious Revolution is compromised (although I did get paid for the time it took to type that last line; I’m off lunch now. Keep Hope Alive!). Soon enough I’ll be unrecognizable (except when naked, but that’s the Wife’s purview). To all 2 people reading this, Run! I’ll lay down suppression fire. Run for the hinterlands and don’t look back. It’s been fun and it’s been an honor. Take whatever you can from the Revolution and rebuild a fine society, one where account executives (that’s salespeople to you) are retrained as masseuses. I don’t know that I’ll be gone for good, just for a while.

Unless something exceedingly stupid forces my hand.

Viva Paper Towels!

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