posted on January 4, 2001 06:35:13 AM
pbr was bored. Not only was he bored, he was consumed. Consumed by the fact that the political rollercoaster had twisted, spun, surged up and down, and finally stopped at a destination he had only had nightmares about.
“What to do, what to do”, he thought over and over in his sleep deprived mind. Pacing the floor in his office, a floor covered with mailing tape, scissors, flattened boxes, and endless speckles of packing peanuts, his tormented mind would not stop.
In an effort so huge, so immense, so colossal, pbr began his new plan. The goal? Search the Internet for any and all stories and news bits having to do with this “Stolen Presidency”. Since the Internet was endless, pbr's supply of odd bits of news, half-truths, whole-truths, and complete fabrications knew no restrictions.
These bits of information, these trifles of tidbits, these alleged allegories, once found, where filtered through the mind of pbr, who then made it his daily obligation to post them for others enlightenment. Three, four even five times per day he sat hunched over his keyboard, sweat dripping from his fingertips, typing furiously yet amazingly accurately. His very being sustained by the thought that he could bring illumination to the masses that would read his typed tirades.
How long could he keep it up? Tune in tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next, for only pbr knows for sure.
The person in the above story is fictitious. Any similarity between the character and someone you may know is completely intentional.
posted on January 4, 2001 08:10:13 AM
Oh, I don't know. Perhaps ol' pbr is the more alive for not yet succumbing to the comforts of complacency and the sheer pleasure of sugar laden sweets.
Maybe if the drive you speak of can hold off the need in him to make hopeless promises to himself to lose weight, or get out more, or some other now nearly unobtainable goal, it might not be a bad thing.
Certainly it's a better thing to still have some semblance of ability to participate in his surroundings, rather than merely letting the world take it's toll without objection for so long as they continue to make those wonderful candies that could offer a mighty solace and and inducement to accept any other discomfort, particularly the discomfort of others.
And he might go one day to the hell alive of not caring at all so long as his treats remain available, but let's all hope that there will be enough fire left in him to object when the inevitable cutoff of the supply of bon-bons comes, and that it comes soon enough that his decline into self absorption has not left him unable to rise from his chair.
posted on January 4, 2001 10:24:51 AM
There are such strong feelings on this one. I am sure the Secret Service is sweating that somewhere soneone will go over the edge and feel they have to take direct action to correct matters. I think those seven escaped convicts in Texas might have that as their agenda.
posted on January 4, 2001 11:44:13 AM
It's part of the swing of the pendalum, Ken. You helped push it so far up in one direction that it was bound to swing down past center and on up into the other direction.
pdr is the Physician's Desk Reference, I thought we were talking about pbr, short for Peanut Butter Richness. Melts in the mouth, not in the hands. Oh, that's M&M's.
Ok, Antiquary, what was the link, now I'm curious what the link was pointing to...
Meya is today's master of alliteration, I salute you for "trifles of tidbits" and "alleged allegories", excellent!
posted on January 4, 2001 02:16:38 PM
I think it's more of a case of expressing outrage and demanding justice due to the fact a great horse we all admired was murdered in broad daylight with everyone watching.
posted on January 4, 2001 03:38:20 PM
Congrats, Meya! You said it better than I've been able to-but you forgot to add, that dead horse is starting to smell and needs to be disposed of.
