Instead of the fulfillment of a lifetime (MY ENTIRE LIFE) of fantasizing about my magical, McFlyAss future, we have instead been given a half-assed skateboard-with-sound-effects. Sorry Mom, I asked for a giant laser so that I could destroy martians, not this plastic piece of shit with a tiny strobe light and the alarm from a clock radio. This is worse than when 2002 came and 0% of 3-2-1 Contact’s predictions (Flying Cars, Space Tourism) came true. I’m depressed. I’m also incredibly spoiled. While we’re at it, if Apple is so great, why don’t I communicate via Hologram?
Today in history, a boat full of anti-sex activists from Europe arrived on the shores of Massachusetts. It was the shortest day of the year so they were probably full of SADness, but they didn’t let that stop them.
They would go on to steal America from its native inhabitants, end the practice of magic forever (inspiring such films as Flight of Dragons and also that one with Winona Ryder in a stupid hat), and eventually become extremely apologetic about everything, forming the quaint communities of Northampton and Provincetown. To be fair, several months on a boat locked in a room full of rats and people with diarrhea would probably make all of us pretty cranky, don’t you think?
Today also marks the anniversary of the beginning of the Fredonian Rebellion, which is when white people first came together to stick their flag in Texas. (Yes, I did read about it on Wikipedia–I would never otherwise want or need to think about Texas.) Of all the things I did not expect to appreciate about a people that would elect this uneducated cattleman to be their leader, it was not that they would pick an awesome, Joss Whedon-like sci-fi name for their first stab at secession. “Fredonian Rebellion” just sounds really awesome and full of powerful lasers.
Here are five great ideas for feeling better today, inspired by the jerks that started it all:
Wedge yourself between two people on the subway until one of them becomes exasperated and moves. Like a Canadian, your other neighbor will sort of owe you even though they don’t like you.
Walk into a busy bakery full of tourists (I suggest City Bakery or Balthazar’s), wait for someone to walk out with a very delicious treat, and tell the hungover college student at the counter, “I think that was probably mine.”
Pick sides in an ongoing battle involving equally uninformed but ideologically opposed political factions, and then go bang a drum in a public place for as long as possible.*