Oh my. This has changed my life forever.
I was minding my own business, scrolling through my Facebook feed, when I noticed that a celebrity had died. I double checked Twitter just to be sure. Yes, indeed. Someone had gone before their time. “Their time” being, “Whenever I am comfortable with them not living anymore, which is never.” (I’m not okay with that unless they did something bad.)
Wait, it gets worse. So, all this is going on and I’m devastated, absolutely wrecked, by the notion that this person I haven’t thought about in seventeen months won’t be around anymore, and I see it: Political Post.
“Oh no, Political Post. You aren’t getting me today! I’m a seasoned Facebook veteran, but wait! There’s a video with big black bars across the bottom and top with a message telling me what to believe. I cannot resist this message.” I clicked Share.
Then the memes came. Good meme, bad meme, sad meme, dank meme. I liked some, but then I thought better of it and said a quick prayer to Zuckerberg before changing them to Happy Faces, Wow Faces, Crying Faces, and even an Angry Face! I love Angry Face because it lets people know that this particular meme penetrated the crust of my blackened soul and caused a hormonal rush, but it didn’t really. (I’m way past having actual human emotions. I’m just going through the motions with this meat bag puppet show.)
“I find myself informed now,” I thought. “I know shit and I have the answers and by grabs I’m going to let the Earth know, all 449 people on my friends list and maybe some of their friends (unless they have unfollowed me, a prospect that makes me wake in the dead of the night in a cold sweat, heart pounding, out of a dream where I am screaming projectile vomit shit into a blue toilet and the shit is filled with corn husk words) and I will let them know that we have to do it. We have to do this thing right now, the line is drawn here! No further!
How magical it is, how wondrous, to have this constant influx of information, real and streaming directly into our minds without having to read a book or attend a seminar. There are no classes here at the School of Dank Knocks, the Meme Streets, just pure unadulterated facts, which I will regurgitate into your open mouths like a mother bird with her young. I am the mother. I am the Queen Mother of the Fucking Internet!”
The shock had just set in when a celebrity did something else. Coffee caught in my throat as my chest began to hitch. “Not destroying another laptop today!” my shriveled spirit screamed as I stumbled to the sink, spurting caffeinated spray before me with each step and showering myself in a beautiful brown mist.
I heaved into the garbage disposal. Tears ran down my face. Images flashed through my mind. Zoos. Football stadiums. The Humanity. Podiums. Stick figures. Explosions. The Horror.
It hit me like a bolt of lightning. I lit up, enveloped by a beam from the Mothership, the scales fell from my eyes, and I knew what I had to do. “It’s the only way to let them know I’ve learned all the answers,” I bellowed to no one, “that somehow though sheer force of will I’ve gleaned some special property from the same churning swill of sewage they’ve drowned in and I’ve floated to the top, King Shit, the Main Turd, the Biggest Dump of Them All!”
My fingers flew across apps, Google, the Greater Internets. “I HOLD THE KEY. I AM THE RIGHTEOUS ONE. CLICK LIKE AND SHARE MY FRIENDS, WE ARE ON OUR WAY TO THE PROMISED LAND.”