I’m just a simple satirist. Names have been changed to protect me, the innocent.
Love may be the answer, but laughter is the way. Humor is a drug that it’s okay to take at work, like coffee, and Five Hour Energy liquid.
When you make us laugh, you make a connection, get our attention. Our fickle, fickle attention. At that moment when we are light and laughing and free, all of our usual defenses go haywire and we are completely vulnerable to new ideas. Ha ha ha. This is when you sock it to them, er, us — with your ideas!
So what now? Will your words offer value, plant a seed, provide a solution, inspire a new follower? Because you don’t have a lot of time before our defenses shut right back up waiting for the next funny bit.
I’d like to help you with this situation, because quite frankly I’m brilliant at it. And I happen to be looking for a Few Good Clients.
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Communiques from East-ish Oakland. Talk softly, and have a big weird-faced tree..
Please visit my new blog at badhomeowner.com to learn more.
Let me rot your brain a little, for the pure bad pleasure of it. Come on now. It’s good to be bad.
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|Signs of social life on this planet, Captain! The author can be found at the following coordinates. Contact initiated, so y’all come back now, here?
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I love performing improv, and its second only to writing and performing a one-woman show for the San Francisco Fringe Festival. I’m always looking for ways to sneak more performing into my life.
This story was originally published in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. It was named Best of Soft Science Fiction by the Association of Soft Science Fiction Writers in 2002. I’m including it below in its entirety.
So one day these aliens leave a message on my machine.
They say, “This is the Intergalactic Space Alien Federation. We are taking over your planet with a constellation of war satellites and plan to enslave your species. We were wondering if you might write our brochure.”
The voice was bogus robo-talk and I figured it was a friend of mine joking around. But then came a knock at the door. It was the aliens ready to talk business. They didn’t care about my schedule, offering only general remarks about making it “worth my during.” I think they meant “while.”
I couldn’t very well keep them standing in the hallway. They looked like six foot slugs and smelled of cheap incense and burnt coffee. What would the neighbors think? I let them in and they sort of slipped and sloshed their way into my sharp little home office. As soon as they were settled, they brought up the idea of doing a brochure again. Right off I said: “No damn way.”
“Not in a million years could a brochure even begin to accomplish your objectives. That kind of world-wide endeavor clearly requires billboards, TV spots, direct mailers, print ads, in addition to several brochures. Not to mention a Web site,” I told them.
They were eating it up. Literally. I had to stop them before they devoured the last of my mock-up samples. I sensed that budget wasn’t an issue. Continue reading
There’s only so much worrying one can do about The Future.