Sunday, October 17, 2010

Made it back!

Hey everyone! I finally dragged myself back on board. Well, okay, there is the slight possibility that Nadine helped. Just a little bit mind you. I did most of it. Well... I suppose if you don't count the fifty escape ladders, inflatable raft, 6 motor boats, and an enormous vaccuum to dry out the ocean around me, then I did a lot. Moving on.

So what I was going to tel you about rocks was that, back in the stone age, they were very important. This time, I made sure to stay inside my cabin before stepping back into any ages.

Sure you are.


Nothing is happening, to be blunt. Ah well, I can just describe it anyway. So basically back in the stone age they really liked rocks. And I mean a lot. They even named their age after it, for heaven's sake. Well, the rock was an important commodity, since it was important and a commodity. Funny, isn't it?

Well, the rock was just being introduced. After using stone to build everything for the past 19 centuries, the human race decided to use a less durable, true, but more stylish building material. Hence, the rock was created. In fact, a typewriter inventor discovered it (typewriter inventors, were of course, people who were paid to invent the typewriter. Strangely, there was only one, but that isn't important right now). Anyway, before you distracted me with your distracting distractions about the distracting topic of... er... what was that again? Oh yes, about Zucchini, then I was very pointedly telling you that the same person who invented a typewriter also invented the rock, because he was looking at this stone that he had put in his office to use as a paperweight. Well, as they always say: "One great invention has a 42.6% chance of fueling, creating, or generating (or perhaps inspiring) another invention if it is created by a person wearing a primary color." Oh come on, don't give me any rubbish about not hearing that one, all the really good scientists say it. Gosh. Anyway, (am I having Deja Vu?) As he looked, he immediately began typing upon his typewriter. Now if you were paying close attention, you would have noticed three things:
  1. The inventor was, in fact, wearing a primary color
  2. The typewriter had just been invented, so consequently:
  3. The typewriter in question was a miserable failure
You may be wondering why this is important, so I will show you using italicized font! YAY!
The typewriter inventor's sweat flew across the room as he furiously typed away at his new invention. The clock in the corner ticked away slowly as the sun beat down from his window into the tiny cubicle. His coworker's breathing was apparent as he lay down a finger, then the next, in an un-relenting rhythm. Starting to catch the beat, he began to type more furiously and quickly. Unknown to those around him in the sweating typewriter inventing office, his tapping had a rhythm now that only he could hear. Inside his mind he felt the power in his words, thoughts, fingers, welling up, a pressure so great, so strong...

And then, the message ended.

With a sound like a fireworks display in the middle of February, the office and the little cubicle erupted. Order wallowed off to find a less troublesome area of mind-numbing invention, and in the few seconds of time that spaced between the abrupt termination of the little man's rhythm and his realization, the tattered remains of his beat drifted down aroudn his head, mocking him. As his fingers started to lose speed, trying their best to respond to his brain's frantic signals, they made a tremendous crash as they beat down four times more. In shock, the inventor stared down at his creation. With a thumping heart, the word there began to fill his vision, and soon he could see but one thing: the word "rock". Backward he wheeled, out of the cubicle and out of the office, trying to get away from that horrible, evil, filthy little word that caused him his mistake. He jumped from the window, aided only by his total shock, and fell unknowingly onto a mattress shop's blowout-sale sidewalk booth, savin his already unconscious soul. With a final effort to shrug off the blackness enclosing, he feebly muttered "R- ro--- Rock!" to the surrounding crowd. They shrank back, unsure what to make of this new development in their otherwise peaceful world. Suddenly it hit one of them. Literally. As he had stopped to think, the window had burst open above him as one worker after another began to drop their stone paperweights, stone picture frames, stone coffee mugs, and even stone socks onto the stone sidewalk below. Within hours, the entire city was reeling in the shock that their peaceful world of stone had been turned into this harsh word, "rock", and the chaos was immense and powerful. Suddenly, a figure rose before those assembled in front of the stone dump, where they had previously been ridding themselves of the vile substance. With a flick of his rock remote control, a team of higly-trained assault troops came in and took everyone hostage.

Yes you were expecting them to all come to the realization that the two are the same thing and live happily ever after, weren't you? Well sorry, but it turns out that the only reason everything worked out is because everyone was kept captive and taken to Mars except the few who believed in rock, and so they survived and started using the words interchangeably and blah blah blah.

The moral of the story is, don't look directly at the sun. It hurts.

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