Saturday, December 15, 2018

9/3/09: 40 Years is Enough

Working at a gas station, you notice weird things. Kevin Smith, the second best screenwriter of the nineties, career was based on it. 

Working at a gas station in the Peoria area, the nation's test market (we get new stuff for three months, and have to wait 10 years for it's return) you see a lot of crappy products.

Today, Hershey's chocolate-flavored Bubble Yum.

I turn to my fellow associate to say, "This product won't sell. I hope they kill whoever came up with such a stupid idea in the name of natural selection."

After the disturbed chuckle of my coworker, I rethought my statement. It was not fair in terms of Darwinism.

"That guy shouldn't die. He should be commended for finding people dumb enough to fund it. The people who gave the product their approval should."

Makes me question which came first, the Nazis or Hitler? No Hitler, no World War through the efforts of dumb Germans. No dumb Germans, no Hitler. If that's not a shout out to my English pride, what is? I guess that's why the chicken or the egg is the universal, less offensive query. 

I for one feel that no one deserves to die, but the world is over populated. The herd needs to be thinned. Trying to stay humorous, I think back to Family Guy's episode where Brian tells his therapist about his Logan's Run dream. 

Cinema history lesson. Logan's Run is a sci-fi film from the seventies that earned a best special effects Oscar nomination for overly potent scribs (explosive charges used to simulate bullet marks).

The plot is that after our world is essentially destroyed (nukes, war, I came in late on this flick) the remaining population developed a dome society where robots do everything for people. To allow for this society to efficiently exist, when you turn 30 you are killed. Most people accept it, but of course, not everyone is so pro choice 363 trimesters in.

Logan, our main character who is on one of the execution squads that tracks down the runners, has turned 30, and has decided he's in the wrong.

My coworker asked "was this the flick with Robert Duvall?" No, Michael York is the star. THX1138 is Duvall's role from the even more confusing George Lucas film.

Thirty. Despite my state of mind right now, I think I may still need three more years if my hopeless ass can hang in there. But do I need thirteen? Hell, Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison, Cobain, 2 pac...they all did it in 27.

So I propose euthanasia at 40.

What is there for anyone to accomplish after 40?

Politics? Come on who wouldn't like to see Bush (W) euthanized?

Art? Stanley Kubrick even realized some projects are left to the younger directors. Like Jimmi Hendrix who achieved more just playing covers.

Technology? When did Bill Gates steal DOS and Windows? What good has he done since then?

Who needs technology if the risks are eliminated? What do you need to improve if the risks are eliminated? What do people under 40 have to fear a disease rise? Leukemia, testicular cancer, and cervical cancer...

AIDS? With the cocktail, you shouldn't die till after 40. It'd be wiped out.

40 years is the age where you start having the awkward procedures to increase the length of your life. 

What straight guy is not fearing a prostate exam? I've heard all the bitching my mom offers about the mammogram procedure.

So if life ends at 40, men don't get a finger up their ass. Women won't have to go through Botox to keep there men from going after younger tail.

Plus the biological clock issues. Are you telling me women look forward to menopause?

My little sister asked about child raising? She said, "You can't parent as long as you should." I told her, "Your major is childhood development, this would give you more work."

If you only have 40 years to live, you'd be a lot more productive with the knowledge that your life can be a waste.

You wanna be a teacher for a decade, no more keg stands. You wanna be a parent, get your kids fast and love every minute of it.

The most important thing about death at forty is it would weed out the weirdest people. Who on earth goes to med school to become a proctologist? Someone who has a fascination with assholes, or a person who couldn't succeed in any other medical field. 

Am I the right person for this rant? Perhaps. I feel burned out and hopeless. I can't do much more with my life. I fought my ass off to be this loser, and a lot of the time it seems like a waiting game.

Then again, I always want to be productive, and I work best with deadlines. 

Obviously, my argument isn't fair. My grandmother was full of knowledge that I try to use everyday. No one should deny my grandfather or father the time to give the love that they did/do. If you want to keep living, please earn it.

So I have developed a fair way of euthanasia. 

When you turn forty, you get a choice. All of the difficulties of the slide down the hill, or you get to choose your method of execution. I got this from Monty Python's Meaning of Life.

For example: a man is given a choice. A prostate exam or have intercourse with Scarlett Johansson (I'm actually a Keira Knightley fan myself), and she's on top. Your head will be laid across a guillotine, and she is holding the rope to the blade. When you cum, she drops the blade.

You cannot convince me that a quarter of our society won't take the nut and cut. Thus the herd is thinned out.

I think all of this is pretty clever. Maybe even intelligent. Then again, I'm not at a Big Ten school, I'm at a truck stop.

After working at about any kind of gas station, one gets fed up with the most ridiculous customers. Surely, this world could use less ridicule.

Maybe this is my work of genius. Einstein came up with the theory of relativity, and he worked as a patent officer. A clerk of his own kind. 

Then again, I'm may just be a closet prude. Either way, I'd love feed back.

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