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Uplifting Message

It goes without saying that these have been difficult times for everyone in this country (America). Even before the Horrible Tragedy That Befell Our Great Nation, things were going down the dumper. The economy was dropping like your overweight aunt down the stairs, unemployment was rising like your overweight aunt's soul to heaven after dropping down the stairs, and it just seemed like everyone was in a funk. Not the good James Brown kind either.

But then came that fateful day, and those Cowardly Attacks On Freedom which will forever replay themselves in our minds until next Thursday, when they set off the nukes and we're all vaporized. And if you thought things were bad before, whoooeee. The economy is in such shambles now that it was evicted from its apartment and can be seen on streetcorner begging for change to support its heroin addiction. Even the lilting tones and erect nipples of Britney Spears are no longer enough to sway our thoughts from the fear of impending doom, not to mention impending Britney Spears albums.

In the wake of the Awful Terrible Terrorist Attacks That Were Really Really Bad, the pundits have been bemoaning America's "loss of innocence", obviously forgetting about the time that I went through a McDonald's drive-thru and ordered four hamburgers. The guy on the other end of the clown's mouth said: "What do you want on those?"

Now if you're like me, you don't expect to get asked this question. Burger King may make it your way, but I think we're all pretty clear on the fact that McDonald's is rather intent on making it their way, and if you don't like it, you're free to go across the street to Burger King, once you find your way out of the parking lot, which you can't. I mean, the recipe for McDonald's hamburgers is pretty well standardized by this point. A bun, a small "meat" patty, a limp slice of pickle, a dollop of lovingly dried onion-substitute flakes, some ketchup (or, "catsup"), and some mustard (or, "mayonnaise").

Shocked and shaken by his question, I panicked and blurted out, "Just plain!" "Alrighty," he chimed back amicably. Whew. Got out of that one pretty well. So, I roll up to the second window (which was back then called the "window", before it was decided that taking your money and giving you a paper bag was too important a job to be trusted to a single person), grab my grub and drive on out of there.

Miles down the road, once I was safely in the left lane of the interstate so I could drive with my knees, I grabbed the first burger and bit into it.

I could almost hear the drive-thru guy laughing from all the way back at the restaurant. "Plain, eh?" he probably thought to himself with a snicker. So these burgers were really, really plain. No onions. No pickle. No ketchup or mustard. And to add insult to injury, they left the meat in there! (Badump)

So this whole "loss of innocence" thing isn't flying with me. But what really gets me is when they start saying how these incidents, these Unbelievably Unconscionable (But Really Cool-Looking) Acts of Destruction, marked the "end of irony". If this is true, then I am totally fucked. Or at least, I would be if I wrote anything on this website more than once every four or five years. Irony is my life, man! Me without irony is like a McDonald's hamburger with no onions, pickle, ketchup or mustard (69 cents.)

But no, apparently we don't get to joke about stuff or be sarcastic anymore. And we're all going to be out of a job soon. And they're going to drop green acid from the sky and our skin is going to boil and melt off like pudding. And everything sucks.

Now perk up, because I have come to save the day. I am here to give you some good news. I am here to save you from your depressed, terrified, miserable selves. Ready? Here's the good news:

  • Good News #1: You are going to die.
  • Good News #2: Soon.
I read a story written by some low-rank philosopher saying that this, the Worst Thing To Ever Happen In The History Of Everything, would pull us from our lighthearted romp through life and return us to a state of constant "existential dread". With all due respect to this writer, he is a complete yam-brain. What the hell does that mean? "Existential dread"? You mean, the feeling that around every corner might be the end? Like you're just one small misstep from getting sent along your way to the great hereafter, or as I like to call it, dirt?

Are you kidding me? Again, with all due respect, if you weren't experiencing any existential dread before this, you are an unbelievable moron. Let me give you a theoretical example. At 8:45 AM, eastern time, on September 11, 2001, a plane was crashed into a building in New York, eventually leading to the building's collapse, and a Whole Big Change To The Way We View The World, Or Something. At that exact moment, a mother of six in Savannah, Georgia reached out of her shower door to grab the pack of Marlboros on the sink. She slipped, whanged her head on the toilet bowl, and died on the spot.

You can learn two things from that story. The first thing you can learn is that you shouldn't smoke in the shower.

The second thing to learn is that, regardless of what fate Allah and his wacky minions have in store for you, you're probably going to get hit by a bus tomorrow anyway, so don't sweat it. Wake up every day, enjoy the smell of your shampoo, look at the shape of the clouds, feel the warmth on your skin, laugh at every joke you hear, tell every joke you know, only eat food that you really like, and revel in the taste of it, treasure the people you love, play the games that you like, do the work that you need to, smile, jump around, and drink in every single moment that this life has to offer you.

And if you weren't already doing all that before, then shame on you.

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COPYRIGHT 2001 BY BEN PARRISH