My dad was wrong. I just discovered that
I am good for nuthin' after all. In fact
I've been good for nuthin' all along.
I am 100% biodegradable and that means
I can be recycled into nuthin'. It also
means that no matter how much I waste,
no matter how much I consume, no matter
how much I pollute, in the end I am environment-friendly.
Best of all, I now have an end use.
Now that's something to put on my resume!
This comes as particularly good news
to somebody who is not sure what his purpose
is. Sometimes I write these humor columns,
pretending to be funny. Sometimes people
even laugh, and I worry that it might
be the start of an ominous trend.
Sometimes I am selling my happiness book,
pretending to be a successful author.
With 2,000 copies of my book keeping the
floor from floating upwards, perhaps I
AM successful. Levitating floors are generally
not considered signs of success in this
part of the country.
Sometimes I am optimizing websites for
search engine rankings. "What exactly
does that mean?" I am often asked.
"Well...it means that I get my clients'
site high up in the searches." Blank stare.
I try again. "It means that I help Google
show you my clients' web sites. Blank
stare.
"Well...I'm not sure how to explain it.
But I get paid to do it." People understand
that.
"I turn on a machine that defluctuates
the turbo-rotating modulator down at the
spare parts plant," someone adds.
"What exactly does that mean?" I ask.
"Beats me. But I get paid to do it."
We are soulmates.
Sometimes I write for pay, because people
seem to want something written. They hope
that if they can't say it themselves,
I might be able to find just the right
words.
"C'mon, David. You have lots of words.
Why don't you lend me some? Why, just
last week you promised to 'defenestrate'
me, whatever that means." They want me
to put their thoughts into words, and
occasionally they want me to create their
thoughts. I worked for a politician years
ago. I vaguely remember how to write somebody
else's thoughts before he knew he had
them.
"So what do you write?"
"Web site copy, mostly."
"Really? Not another book?"
"No, I still have 2,000 copies of the
last book piled up in my office."
"I'm sure they'll sell quickly, David."
"Really? Want one?"
"Uh...gotta go. It's time for my pet
goldfish's nap."
I also write this humor column faithfully
every week. But people actually PAY me
to write website copy. Now, dear reader,
answer me this question. Would you rather
be reading this hilarious column, loaded
with frosting and topped with chocolate
syrup, or would you rather read plain
vanilla website copy.
OK, go ahead and read the website copy,
then. See if I care.
One thing my website copy and this column
have in common is that they are not biodegradable.
Remember how computers would save the
environment as they replace the three
gazillion tones of paper we trash every
few hours in offices around the world
and elsewhere?
Now we discover that all that paper at
least was biodegradable, recyclable, reusable.
It wasn't all that bad for the environment,
after all. But the monitor you are reading
this on will last forever. (SFX: evil
laughter) Adventure seekers from the planet
Zorgoppppt will land here in the year
2304 and discover all these abandoned
monitors scattered around.
One Zorgopppptian will say to the other,
"prrg, ddyte h hthp oooo djudu" (Translation:
"Groovy paper weights!")
But they won't find me, thanks to my
lifetime achievement. I'll be long gone,
because I am (chest swells with pride)
biodegradable.
This article was posted on April 07,
2004
