Ah, well. So, kids – this week went from fun to weak in a “Well, that was a surprise but not SO much of a surprise” manner. Granted, with all my recent good tidings I’d naturally expected some stuff in the air to tumble down hard. but I at least figured I’d see it coming before I got smashed on the skull and would be able to leap gracefully out of the way. Okay, at least sidestep slowly away from the crushing blow and let it hit some other poor sap. Welp, I actually got splattered across the map but good (ewww), but this ended up being a fortunate thing that it happened when it did and not when I was in the midst of the upcoming better stuff that’s rolling up shortly. So ol’ Arnold up there is both right and wrong. You can kill a dream alright, but you can’t kill the dreamer unless he or she wants to cash in those chips. And I’m not going anywhere I don’t want to…
I overheard that at the laundry early this morning and got a chuckle because everything is a form of “work” even if you’re on a holiday. Hey, run that quote by my brain when it wants to get something done with words and it’ll chuckle at you too. “I can start anytime I want to” it will say in response before getting me into some sort of trouble after I post what pops out. It’s a messy process, people. Of course, this striving to put out content that changes based on a few things from a squishy, thinky thing needs to be continually fed and fertilized can lead to some minor to major distress on occasion. Oh, don’t worry, dear readers – I’m not the suicidal type at all, but it’s sure hard as hell to concentrate on stuff I need to do that’s of a mildly entertaining value when the rest of the world is perched on a ledge and no one’s called the cops.
Go ahead and jump, planet – the gawkers will click away with their cameras and get all social about the dive in their usual places online and off (not realizing that you’re taking those sheep-shaped dopes with you). Meanwhile, I’ll be here doing stuff (or letting my brain do stuff) while those who can handle it pick up the pieces and break out the library paste. Hmmm… maybe the planet just needs a vacation from the people on it and has been dropping some hints of the not so gentle variety. Oh well. At least I now have clean socks and underwear for the apocalypse, ha ha… eep.
(thanks, Ben Murphy!)
You can’t get more precise than that, but let’s have another, shall we? To wit (and about ten or so years later):
Angrier and louder (and less funky), but yeah, you get the message. Just pass it up the ladder ’til it reaches the top. And hell, add some Creedence in for good measure (because nobody doesn’t love them some Creedence):
And so forth and so on. Pick a few of your own favorites and make up a playlist. Pass it on, pass it on, pass it on.. maybe one day they’ll start listening. And talking to each other before the shit hits the fan… again.