TBT #44: Saint Francis of Assisi and the Frantic Pacers

I had a friend when I was younger who had about seventeen remote control cars in his basement. I always thought this was amazing because, seriously, remote control cars were one of the best toys around. They were up there with Batman action figures and the ever-changing line-up of Super Soakers. And this friend had more remote control cars than ANYONE. I was jealous. How could I not be jealous! They were RC cars! And I think he even had that one that was a hovercraft.

But he never played with them.

“They’re broken,” he said, matter-of-factly. And I had to simply accept that, even though I knew that there was no way all these toys were broken. More likely, they simply needed batteries. But this guy, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to see the point of rounding up the dozens upon dozens of batteries necessary to get his fleet moving. I couldn’t understand it then, but I sort of get it now. A remote control car is really only fun for a couple of hours. In the end, it’s just a vehicle that’s low on power, short on speed and too damn small to take you anywhere. You could not drive anywhere in a remote control car.

The hovercraft, though? That was cool. The Best Thing then and The Best Thing Today. May 30, 2005.

Update Monsoon in June

I seriously do not know why I am doing this, but annual tradition dictates that I must update every day for one month out of the year. In the past, it’s been May. This year, it’s going to be June. The reasons for this delay are numerous and probably quirky and part of me wants to detail them for you, in the form of a bulleted list. I can’t, though. I really can’t do that. And do you know why? Do you know why I can’t write out that list which would surely entertain you with its remarkable wit and boisterous tone?

It’s because I need to conserve my words.

You see, it’s still May right now! It’s May for another two days! And since I have to update for — dear god — thirty days in a row, my feeling is that I have to keep all my best writing until June. Anything I write in May will be USELESS. I’ve already defined May. It’s been a slow month filled with only a few articles mostly about me and Superman and a guy who can’t let go of his baggage. If I were to bust out with something really AWESOME and memorable right now — which I totally could do — it would not only break from the precedents I’ve set during this month, it would also take away from JUNE. Which will be a whole new month: a month of wonder and wonderfulness, spread across thirty goddamn days. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll curse me for finding ways to get around having to write something NEW every day. It won’t be entirely pretty, or coherent or, well, good, but it’ll be there. And you should be too.

It is called UPDATE MONSOON IN JUNE and I will someday make an awesome logo that declares that it is called UPDATE MONSOON IN JUNE. I am thinking, like, a picture of a monsoon, with the words UPDATE MONSOON IN JUNE written underneath. Can you picture that? Can you picture that in your MIND? Because I can. And it is pretty.

Laws governing the conservation of matter

You understand my problem, though, don’t you? Anything funny or interesting I write today will take away from something funny or interesting I could write in June. I already wasted that somewhat awesome Remote control car story as the introduction. That could have been something better! That story could have made me a millionaire! Or a thousandaire! I can’t risk tossing further gems into this stinkhole of a well. I just can’t. I have to save my words.

I have to save my ideas.

Therefore, here are some really bad ideas which I will type out now to ensure that not only will the good ideas remain intact they will also exist in a metaphysical plane (Perhaps a CESSNA) unbothered by these stupid bad ideas that are stupid and suck!

Really Bad Ideas

• Maybe, like, a giant who lives in a castle near a village and everyone is afraid of him because he is seriously a huge giant. Like really big and tall and probably fat. And he loves to party. But he doesn’t know how big he is because of psychology or something so he’s always hanging out like “Hey dudes I sure am exactly the same size as the rest of you” but the townspeople are like “AHH A GIANT!” It would be kind of tragic.
• Okay I think I will continue on that fantasy theme. What about a story that takes place in the land of fairies and, obviously, fairy dust. And there’s this one fairy who is like a slacker fairy. The other fairies are all singing and wanting to go help little girls find their ponies or whatever the hell it is fairies do these days but this one fairy — named, weirdly, Olaf — kind of hates people. And he especially hates little girls! And ponies! So he just loafs around until one day the head fairy (or maybe God? Do fairies work for God? Are they like angels but smaller?) makes him go down to earth and help someone but — because of his hatred of young girls and ponies! — he tries to help, like, this middle-aged guy who loves only two things. Bowling and something else. Whores, I think. The guy loves bowling and whores. But what does a fairy know about bowling and whores?! Not a lot! The rest of the story writes itself!
• Maybe a story would work where there’s like this REALLY EVIL GUY probably a Dennis Hopper type who gets people to fall in love and then kills them! With bombs! And he does it really elaborately with clues and such! Like he picks a random guy and a girl and manipulates them in subtle but brilliant ways that brings them together. And, then, when they finally admit their love to one another, they blow the fuck up! Like into a shower of confetti! The confetti is symbolism.
• Okay, picture this. There’s a man. He hates cupcakes. Hates them to death! And then one day, he wakes up, yawns, stretches, takes a shower, brushes his teeth. And then he goes to his closet to get some clothes. But when he opens the door to his closet, like seventy cupcakes just fall on him. His closet is filled with cupcakes! And the rest of the story is a mystery as this cupcake-hating man tries to figure out why there would be so many cupcakes in his closet!
• This one isn’t very developed at all but, just for a second, picture a very tiny turtle living alone in a tent. One day a man stumbles into the woods and finds this turtle in the tent. “Turtle,” he says eventually, “what are you doing in this tent?” The turtle can speak, but only slowly. So slowly in fact, that it takes him years and years to get out all the words. “Hello,” the turtle says, “I am in this tent for a reason.” But by the time he says that it’s been like five years and the man is long gone. The turtle doesn’t realize this because his eyesight has failed. He continues: “I am in this tent because I am your father.” After he says that, the turtle’s life is over. And he dies.
• A guy is trying to get over a wall. It is a very low wall, about a foot high. He just stares at it, every so often poking it with his toe. Another person comes by and asks him why he doesn’t just step over the wall. “You are stupid!” says the first man. “Yes, but why?” says the other person. “Because this is all a dream!” And then the man wakes up in a warehouse covered in a cookie crumbs!
• There is a monster under a bed but the boy who has slept in the bed is growing up. And uh oh! The boy has brought a girl home! What is the monster supposed to do now! He doesn’t approve of pre-marital sex! He is a Catholic Monster!
• A man and a woman fall in love but keep forgetting why exactly. Eventually they put a list of things they love about one another on the fridge. At first it’s all “His smile” “Her laugh” “The way he holds me”. But then a few years pass and the few additions are stuff like “Wears the little stickers from his apples on the collar of his shirt”, “Lets me sleep in on Saturdays” and “Pretends to like me when I’m a total dick.” Whenever company comes over people read the fridge and are confused. “That’s not ours,” explains the couple. “That’s not even our fridge!”
• Aliens come to earth and land in a small town. They find a man and try to shoot him with a ray gun. “Help!” he screams. “I have been shot by aliens!” Except he’s okay, really, because the aliens are dumbasses whose ray guns don’t even work right. The Dumbass Alien saga will be a nine-part “trilogy of trilogies” in which humanity shoots and kills and destroys a bunch of stupid aliens whose technology does not work reliably and who keep tripping over their space robes. Haha, why would anyone wear a spacerobe.

I Have Saved So Many Words

I did not know I had so many bad ideas. Those were just off the top of my head. They don’t even include all the bad ideas I have about robots! I am saving those, as I am saying all my ideas about robots, for what will one day be a very unwieldy completing asinine novel about robots. I don’t know when I will write that. Not in June! June is for something else! June is for the monsoon! The UPDATE MONSOON!

Stay tuned and I sincerely apologize for everything I have ever done wrong.

Just to be safe,
Matt