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‘Mo B. Dick

April 1, 2009

Call me (ish)male. Heavy on the ish.

Ever have one of those noncommittal days?

Maybe you haven’t. Maybe you feel like:

Today is the first day of the rest of your life
Today is a good day to die
Today is gonna be the day they’re gonna throw it back to you

If I were you and I had to choose the third option, then I would ask you just to go ahead and pass me the tambourine and the Kool-Aid. And if this is indeed my first day, I want credit on the past 13,140.

If you made me choose the second option, then I would feel like the missing castmember or a proto Jack Bauer from that 90s Joel Schumacher film.

Fizzgig, No!

Fizzgig, No!

And that leaves us with the third option. In a moment of candor – if I may – I would be wondering who they are…and what they’re throwing. I mean, you could very well end up a Gelfling who has been thrown a shard to plunge deep into the crystal to save all of us poor pod people….just sitting in a chair while the life is sucked out of us.

And what’s doing the sucking? What’s giving us the meh’s and the pffft’s?

Call it work. Call it iPhone applications. Call it a good night in Vegas.

Just don’t call it Ishmael. That bastard stole my name.

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