I Like Candy

Sugar makes my teeth hurt a bit nowadays, but the memories are worth it. I once bought rock candy in Mark Twain's hometown of Hannibal, Missouri. And I once ate a lemon drop I found stuck to the Washington Monument. Both were glorious, unforgetful events, even though the second one was fictional.

I'm just passing by to share with you an article I found in the Mansfield Post-Gazette-Picayune this week. It concerns me, and it concerns the past. It doesn't concern candy. Enjoy, or as I now say (as of now), "Educate yourself."

**********************************

"Boy for Sale?" By Rick Delaney

Thursday night, Harry B., 23, of Brookfield, Wisconsin (whose grandfather was a coalminer), went to bed with the self-satisfaction of a man confident he'd written a blog entry racy enough for the "Most Controversial Post" Bloggy award. He was certain his brain would rest in the comfortable knowledge of future trivial ceremony. However, as Harry drifted into sleep, his arrogant predictions began to prove themselves faulty, for his brain decided its greatest rest would be achieved through no rest at all.

In the first known case of brain-vacation, Harry's brain actually lifted itself out of its headslot and pleasured itself in a variety of activities. Witnesses, which include Harry's cats Starlight and Midnight, say the brain made little mention of why it was leaving for the night, though each theorized on the reasoning. Starlight proffered the possibility that the brain was "sick of thinking about 'important issues' like race and international relations. It didn't want to deal with Harry's human desire for meaning any more. In fact, it didn't believe Harry and his conversation partners understood the purpose of their brains. Brains exist to facilitate the survival and enjoyment of life, which they achieve quite nicely in us felines. Brains do not exist to trouble themselves with the follies of others - follies which are often entirely unreasonable and unresolvable anyway given the current state of humanity." Midnight, on the other hand, supplied the following statement: "Mew."

To the best of our knowledge, the first leisure in which the brain partook was voting. Perhaps entertained by the irony of voting for something with no potential for violent fallout, the brain headed over to G-Phoria to vote for G4's annual video game awards. A significant amount of time was spent at the site, suggesting that even though the brain was having fun, it was having fun by sincerely thinking about its vote. We at the newspaper do not suggest you vote in this election unless you are willing to think about your vote equally hard. We at the newspaper also deny that we make this suggestion only to keep you from affecting results on which we've gambled our entire publication. By the way, enjoy our special issues next week, which will either focus on our new gold-plated paper or our insider-reporting on robbery.

Providing a nice segue, Harry's brain then headed out to local neighbors' houses to gather any attractive property it found unguarded. The brain must have realized that it was National Night Out, a night on which families and police celebrate their community's safety by gathering in one place and leaving the rest of the city an anarchic free-for-all. The brain is said to have scored an XBox 360 (possibly for more voting research), two toaster-ovens, and a birdcage filled with money.


With the night coming closer to its close, Sir Brain (as it chose to recreationally appoint itself), quickly put some notes together for the hidden instrumental track on The Silent Explosion's forthcoming album The Devil Rounds Down. Witnesses again included just Starlight and Midnight, with Starlight saying the record sounded "as rocking as anyone would expect from the dark lord's newest melodists" and Midnight purring softly. The Post-Gazzette-Picayune will feature exclusive inserts on this young band's rise to the top, in addition to its subsequent fall, in future issues.

As the sun rose over the tiding sea, the brain returned to its proper place, where it was heard to whit these parting lines: "I have had my fun. Now I shall hope that Harry has his."

When asked about the event, Harry had this to say: "That, like, totally blows my mind. It's like my brain is a Furby or something." Apparently, Harry remembers nothing from the night except a dream his brain had placed on loop.

In the dream, Harry existed as a Wolverine-like mutant who used his powers to do nothing, but instead revived a theatrical version of Snow White. Profits from the performance were meant to support the underpriveleged theme park workers who were acting in the play; however, on opening night a robotic motorcycle attacked the star of the show and ripped up his patented Zenedine (Zizou) Zidane jersey. Harry chased the robot, actually putting his Wolverine powers to use briefly, but it was too late as the jersey had already been ripped to shreds. A fat Italian guy gathered the pieces of fabric and held them up dramatically. Seeing this, the actors gathered around the Italian and the relic and marched back into the theater, where the audience was still waiting four hours after the announced start time. "Zizou! Zizou! Zizou!" the congregation chanted, and everyone applauded, clapped, and cried.

- RD

"It's like my brain is a Furby or something."