banalities - Chocolate Thunder

issue 5, spring 2001

banalities

Warning! - Not Suitable for Paragliding

This product is ergonomically designed, and produced in tribal collectives using traditional methods. No snails were harmed during the production of this product. It is fashioned from seasoned tropical woods and Thai parachute silk. The Swiss army has used products similar to this during training exercises. For ages 3 and up. 10% of profits are used to promote faith, hope, charity, fortitude, justice, temperance, and prudence. Version 2.1 will have full Internet capabilities. Comes in a full range of berry colors, except tangerine. Side effects were similar to those experienced by subjects taking a placebo, and may include drowsiness, vomiting, upset stomach, and anti-social behavior, not limited to but including envy, sloth and anger. 10% of users experienced mild euphoria, and were disinclined to operate heavy machinery. Naturally low in fat. Not suitable for paragliding, may oxidize if exposed to dynamite. Nine out of ten pet owners preferred the product to similar brands. Prolonged exposure to the product may increase the risk of economic blight in surrounding neighborhoods. If swallowed, induce vomiting and watch for signs of broken marriages, flat tires, bad breath, corns, bunions and in-growing nails. Dogs have been known to bark at users, cats arch their backs and spit, and small children cry. Breaking the seal on the product constitutes an agreement to abide by the terms of service, including, but not limited to, adhering to the laws of Liechtenstein, and obeying the commands of its princes. Some assembly required. Shake before using. Bluetooth enabled. If symptoms persist, call your doctor.

I Love That Dress on You

He graduated at the top of his class in journalism after he took a job as a janitor at the j-school building as part of his scholarship and found out they were dumping chemicals down the drain from the photo lab. He was worried they would kick him out for exposing it, so he went to the local paper with the story instead of the student paper. But they didn't. They acted like he was a hero and like they didn't know about the chemicals being dumped and so he was at the top of his class. And there was a secret handshake somebody showed him after graduation and he joked that someone couldn't ever lie about being at the top of his class because the handshake would prove it.

Of course I knew the handshake. And so did everybody else. I mean, Peter and those guys. I even saw Peter telling the story at a bar once, showing the girl the handshake … maybe only about half right, anyway, but close enough so that if she ever met a real head of the class at Andy's college, she'd think Peter had been telling the truth, but, of course, only if she remembered it, really. She'd be surprised when the guy (or woman) didn't know of Peter and maybe even think they were wrong and just not keeping up with all of the guys (and women) coming out of the school on top. She might even think they were stuck up and, if she remembered Peter from Adam, as they say, she'd be glad she didn't end up with him because she'd figure he was probably a stuck up guy by then. Unless the real top-of-the-classer were totally rich or something. Then maybe she'd lament barely having had the chance to get to know him. But most likely, she wouldn't remember him, as Peter either doesn't remember her, as he said when I asked, or he's embarrassed to have been busted using the valedictory handshake and lied about not remembering her, which is probably the case, because, while it may have been the last time Peter used the story he stole from Andy, it certainly wasn't the first time.

I've never used that story—or anybody else's story, besides mine—to try to impress a girl. Which is probably why I'm so miserable at it. Not that I don't lie. I do that all the time. All day long, sometimes. But just the lies of convenience, like, "cute baby," or "I love that dress on you."

Shit Poll

In response to an oft-expressed perplexity as to the course of recent events, it occurred to me to question whether humanity was really as baffled by it all as they so often stated. I decided to take a poll in order to answer the question scientifically once and for all.

The poll was conducted in the following manner: Randomly selecting a sample of friends and family from my address book (they, after all, were the very people I had most often heard posing the question I was researching), I set about collecting their responses. Not wishing to be intrusive, or cause them inconvenience, (who welcomes the pollster's call?) and using judgment based on long acquaintance, I answered my question as I thought they would. Unscientific - assuredly. Arrogant - a person like you would think so. But consider this - the fine art of polling often includes framing the question in such a way that allow a very limited number of responses at best. I have been much more generous, and have imagined quite off-topic responses. And polls that appear in such publications as USA today are more a form of entertainment than a serious canvas of public opinion, which the folks at The Onion have been pointing out with gusto for some time now. And if you think that this footnote is getting a little long - get used to it. That seems to be the fashion these days. At least I haven't included reminiscences of college, where, every so often I would stay up all night and greet the dawn on the roof of River Hall with an elaborate dance of my own creation. Sublime stuff. I'm tempted to do the same today. In any case, these results are conclusive, indisputable, and even now are being etched into granite in an upstate New York quarry.

Epilogue

Carson Hearst left the priesthood and went on to become the leader of Slow-Food guerrilla action group.

Nikoli Malcolm used aspects of his tough commando training to revolutionize the lunchtime workout industry.

The Book of Lies was never published, although its manuscript was passed from hand to hand amongst a Mason-like cabal of intellectuals. Many of its ideas filtered out to the general public in afternoon talk shows.

The Catholic Church restructured itself as an upscale furnishings catalog.

The 48th Poplar and Kensington Cub Scout Troop was never quite the same again.

Roustabout the Dog was featured in a series of hand lettered and xeroxed posters, but was never found. Claire sometimes thinks she sees his hand in the more political of today's performance instillation art.

Keiko Mannoshevitz has set her sights on sake.

The Krakow Twins were married to a tree-stump, but it wasn't as much fun as they thought it would be.