Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Wednesday, March 19, 2003 Here We Go
I posted the first Velcrometer entry one year ago today, which technically entitles me to do one of those year-in-review entries. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to.
I mean, I wasn’t planning on doing it anyway, much less with the world in its current state. In fact, as the march to war continues inexorably onward, it’s becoming more and more difficult to maintain this persona of the lighthearted, minutiae-obsessed purveyor of mindless Internet goofism. And you may or may not have noticed, but the strain is starting to show. And in some pretty strange ways, at that.
For instance, ever since the president’s last State of the Union address I’ve been too stressed to actually compose an entry every day. So I had no choice but to generate them randomly using those magnetic poetry sets. It was just a crutch at first, but now I’ve become so dependent on it that I can’t string a paragraph together unless I see it fully assembled on my refrigerator door. Including this one.
Also, remember the whole duct-tape and plastic sheeting fiasco? People took it seriously for about five seconds before it became a punchline. But I just can’t let it go. In fact, I’ve already sealed off a room in my house, just to be safe. I probably should have done that while I was inside the room so I don’t break the seal when it’s time to enter it, but the point is it’s a safe room. And of course, if a chemical attack hits the room, it’ll be contained and the rest of the house will be safe. It’s win-win, really.
But it’s not perfect, because I still have to leave the house and go to work. So I’ve fashioned a crude hazmat suit out of my leftover duct tape and a couple of clear plastic painter’s dropcloths. It wasn’t an easy task, considering that I lack the sewing skills to make a washcloth, but I got it done. And I can tell it’s completely airtight, because I passed out within ninety seconds of sealing myself into it. But then I came up with the idea of cutting a hole in front of my mouth and nose and closing off the opening with a coffee filter. It’s still not ideal, especially in terms of visibility, what with my glasses fogging up all the time. Driving was pretty hard at first, but once I figured out how to keep the honking horns at a consistent distance, things have gone much more smoothly. And the loud rustling of the plastic drowns out people’s comments, most of which don’t seem very supportive anyway. But when Saddam’s minions rain botulism toxin down on the Twin Cities, I’ll keep aging normally while everyone around me will become expressionless and wrinkle-free, leaving me the best actor in town. Pretty soon I’m going to have to figure out what to do about the sodden yellow paper towels bunched around my feet, but I’m hoping hostilities will be over before that situation becomes too untenable.
And I’m sorry, but I never expected these color-coded terror alerts to be as time-consuming as they are. I mean, first we were at Yellow, then Orange, then Yellow, and now we’re at Orange again. Jeez, have a little consideration, federal government! I mean, I know you pols have people who do this stuff for you, but those of us in your actual constituency find it a little tedious to always have to be repainting every room in our houses just because you’re feeling more tangerine than lemon this morning. I barely had time to finish painting the house orange during the last Orange Alert. I’m kind of glad I didn’t get around to painting the second bedroom yellow again this last weekend, so now I can just leave it orange, which is technically cheating but there is one coat of yellow paint under it and I don’t think the inspectors will look deeper than that.
Maybe I’m going a little overboard. Call me crazy if you want. But it’s only temporary. In a few weeks, Baghdad will fall, Saddam will be gone, and we’ll all be safe, right?
Right? posted by M. Giant 3:22 PM 0 comments