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You Have to be Kidding Me

August 17, 2009

Seventeen entries. FIVE VOTES. People, listen to me. This is not the way democracy works. Where would this country be if on election day there were 17,000 parties to choose from but only 50 people show up to vote? Wait a second. 

Back to business. Eighty percent of voters felt Joel’s entry deserves to win. I would call it a sweeping victory but only four people voted for him. So Joel, welcome to The Fridge Door Society. It’s kind of lonely right now. 


They were hapless victims. Their father couldn’t imagine the horror that would unfold once he left. James was counting cards since he was nine months old, Oscar was a language savant, and together they were an intractable force of genius. But their intelligence had proven to be futile against the childproof construction of their highchairs. From their plastic perches, they would be carefully pointed towards the torture box and left at their mother’s side for an hour of infernal suffering, as she gazed on in blithe fascination. They could close their eyes and scream but that would only encourage an increase in volume until their voices were hoarse and the unceasing descant prevailed. They would never win. This wasn’t a domestic affair; they were up against the collective power of nearly every mother in North America. It was an alliance, so vast and so loyal that the only remaining hope for humankind was to take out the chief of the tribe: Oprah.

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