The Dull Threat to Our World

March 20, 2006

“Man, it’s boring out today,” I say.

“More boring than it was yesterday,” says Bernie the half-cyborg cat.

“It’s like every year it just keeps getting more and more boring,” I say.

“You know what this means?” says Bernie.

“You mean…?”


“My god…”

“We are in the grips of GLOBAL BORING!” We say “Global Boring” at the same time.

“The signs were there,” I say. “The promotion of mediocrity, vapidness, and conformity in all media…the obsession with profit…the heightened sales of khaki pants…we just never put the pieces together.”

“We didn’t listen!” Bernie cries.

“The banality levels are higher than in any other time in human history,” I say. “We’re choking the Earth with Boring-floro-carbons. How else do you explain the fame of Larry the Cable Guy?”

“The FCC is under the rule of pro-boring lobbyists,” says Bernie. “It’s turned radio into a dull hollow carcass and TV into a withering fern.”

“Even the news is boring,” I say. “Local, national, international, intergalactic…none of it generates anything in me. I’m not informed or outraged or bemused.”

“Thank the cat lords that sex is still interesting,” Bernie says.

“But even that is being threatened by the minions of the Boring,” I say. “Trying to eliminate contraception so that sex is merely for procreation.”

“Why couldn’t we stop them?” Bernie yells to the sky. “How did we let this happen?”

“We were too busy being interesting,” I say. “And then one day we woke up and the Boring was all over the place.”

“We need to blow up the world,” Bernie says. “To defeat Global Boring we have to initiate an event of massive interesting magnitude.”

“And I know how to do it,” I say. “We blow up the sun! Then the exploding sun will make the Earth explode.”

“The people of Earth have been judged irreversibly boring by this court,” Bernie says. “And it is a sad testament that you will be more interesting dead than alive.”

“We regret everything!” I say on behalf of humanity.

Nine hours later Bernie and I wake up to find ourselves out in the middle of a wheat field, surrounded by the parts of a disassembled thresher which I guess we took apart to build a sun-destroying cannon of sorts.

And that was the last time we tried Bernie’s Catnip-rubber cement-raw adrenal gland-mescaline trail mix.

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