A-woo-hoo and a-woo-hoo. These are exciting times. We are witness to a major historical universal shift, a moment in human history that begs to be celebrated and appreciated and scrutinized and basked in and held up like Simba in The Lion King. It is momentous and evolutionary and illumined and all the things that the media will say.
El Guapo understands all of this, but he also understands that it is his duty, nay, his societal and cultural obligation, nay, his divinely appointed responsibility to be the beacon of truth, the engager of difficult ideas, the pursuer of knowledge, and the handsome visage of critical analysis. So I ask you - What of post-coital tomorrow? (I promised myself I'd use "post-coital" in the next few days and this was as good a time as any.) What of our collective euphoria hang-over?
I've given this some thought. I have lived my entire life with a crusty old white man in the oval office. The fact that there will not be one in the white house come tomorrow morning is a serious mind job. My psyche is rebelling. I'm not sure I'm equipped for this.
Indulge me as I explore a fitting metaphor for what my resistant mind is like. Imagine a fictional land without toilet paper. All the people of this land know only corrugated sandpaper for such purposes. While the sandpaper is painful and causes all the things you would expect sandpaper to cause, the people accept that this is life, and so they waddle everywhere like they just dismounted a horse after an eight hour ride over cobblestones. The people sit with groans. They wince a lot when they laugh. Life is what it is...nothing more, nothing less.
Now imagine that one magical night two-ply, extra soft, silky, Aloe Vera infused Charmin toilet paper suddenly falls from the sky. The people can't understand. Their minds struggle to let go of the corrugated sandpaper that they have become used to and some cry and cross their arms in defiance and refuse to make the switch. Others gather and celebrate the arrival of the Charmin. Waddling diminishes eventually (but it takes time to heal...time. Chafed asses don't unchafe instantaneously.)
Oye...the corrugated sandpaper has left and our Charmin has arrived...It has arrived!
Enjoys poking ideas, things, and people with a stick...a sharp, bloody satirical stick. While El Guapo is a busy man, he will consider writing work that will make the most of his prolific talents. Author's website Email the author