The Question that Everyone is Asking

by on May 5, 2000 @ 5:09 pm

There are many decisions in life. Many of the turns you take are going to be good, while others are going to stink like the lingering smell of an aged bedsheet fart that is loosed when you wake up in the morning. Some easy ones to deal with are like these:

• Should I take a dump in my pants?
• Is it alright to poke myself in the eye with this pencil?
• Which is better to drink – Coca-cola or vaginal wart ooze?
• Is the new John Tesh/Yanni duet album any good?
• Should I overthrow the government of a third-world country?

No problem for the average reader, I hope. But introducing another variable into the situation changes everything.

• Should I take a dump in my pants if I’m sitting on Cher’s head?
• Is it alright to poke myself in the eye with this pencil if there is a giant tarantula crawling across my eye socket?
• Which is better to drink – Coca-cola or vaginal wart ooze, if the Coke is spiked with scabs and blood from a dead hooker?
• Is the new John Tesh/Yanni duet album any good if it is packed with equal parts gay porn and $100 bills?
• Should I overthrow the government of a third-world country? Well, that’s an easy one both ways. Nevermind.

It’s always something. Should I buy the groceries, or pay the electric bill? The red pill, or the blue pill? It’s all very nerve-wracking. Monkeys in Botswana are scratching their heads over it. But I’m here to tell you that there is one decision that you have to make. One in which all your other decisions will pale in comparison to; the one in which all other options become microscopic amoebas of thought. It is the decision that all other decisions you make in life will be based upon. Do you hear me?! Don’t take this lightly, because death comes like a vile wind in the night, smothering you in it’s rancid cloud of noxious fumes. It is like a thief, coming to steal your new CD player. It is like a giant bird, kinda. But a bird with big hairy bat wings! Do you hear it’s call? It’s like a cross between fingernails running across a blackboard and the sound of a pigeon as it hits the window of your speeding car. Yeah, it’s that bad. You cover your ears, and the sound only gets louder, like it’s screaming right there in your skull. Holy God make it stop!

So what’s it going to be, you filthy corporate whore?! You have two choices:

Who’s it gonna be? US or THEM?

Choose wisely, grasshopper. It’s not so easy as it looks. There has been many graduate theses done on the subject, and the conclusions are murky at best – and ludicrous at worst. A recent article was written about the subject in a recent issue of US News and World Reports, but it’s obvious that they’re biased because of the US in their name. However, I was lucky enough to cull some rather interesting infographics from their pages.

I think it’s pretty obvious what these charts say, but I’ll let you make your own decisions. Personally, both graphics together make the red lines look like a little mountain. That’s what we in the biz call data mining. Take note.

Even with all this conclusive evidence, it still doesn’t make the decision any easier. There are just so many variables to take into account. Some questions I’ve heard that are pertinent to the situation have been compiled, but were lost. I had around 100 case studies of people that had been driven insane by the question, but my girlfriend cleaned my room, so now I can’t find them. I had a picture of the man with the answer, but the kid at the 1-hour photo place exposed my negatives.

One thing is clear, though. You must make the decision. Are you going to become a corporate yesman, dine at the best restuarants, and work for the infamous THEM? Or are you going to flounder in obscurity, putting smoke bombs in mailboxes, fighting for your rights as one of US? The crossroads will come to you soon enough. Make the decision before the question drives you into a life of debauchery and sin! Well, most of you people are into that whole debauchery and sin thing, so you people quit reading. Actually, everybody quit reading, because I’m done.