Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Plea



Remember the Yellow Pages? It's a book that is delivered to you free of charge and it used to give some sanity to our commerce. In 1983 if I wanted to buy a wiffle bat then I would look in the yellow pages under "Sporting Goods" and it would list J.C. Penney and Gallaghers and J.J. Newberry's and The Athlete's Foot among others and I would visit one of these stores and they would have but one option to choose from and that is the wiffle ball and bat set that are manufactured in Connecticut from good old American plastics by good American folk. And I would buy that wiffle ball and bat and retire to the protected environs of the racquetball courts next to the JFK Center which had natural boundaries for hits (bounces to wall), doubles (hits wall in air), triple (hits fence area in air), and home run (leaves enclosed area and lands outside) where Nick and Brad and Mikey would be waiting with jugs of soda and packs of gum. That was 1983. In 2011 you go to the Internet and order the cheapest thing that comes up. And that might be a cheap knock off from Yugoslavia. My point is that you wouldn't be motivated to buy local because there might be a cheaper product that will arrive in relatively the same amount of time on the backs of Lithuanian orphans.
What the hell is my bigger point? I got lost there researching the history of Wiffle balls. The Internet is a maelstrom that sucks my attention into the deficit rich waters of the nether-net.
Ah!
We have got to get back to ordering and buying locally and that's what the yellow pages is. If you need something like table cloths then you should go to the yellow pages and look up table cloths and pick a local store. Do not give in to the temptation to buy at Target because Target is merely a Chinese import dealership clothed in the costume of a friendly purveyor of Americana. No. Don't shop there. The money you think you save will be lost in hidden federal import costs and welfare to doll out to the people who lost their jobs to the Chinese slave who is trying to earn enough money to be poor in their village where they can either be sold into sex slavery or defend their honor against the hoard of Mongolian BBQ feeders with blood dripping down their throats. You lose in the end but the glossy billboards of size 4 women with fake teeth and fake tits might convince you that you are on the winning team. Nope. You're on the losing team. You have "Rob Me" taped on your back and every Asian country is eyeing you and laughing. You can't buy your way into the popular crowd. That's the oldest trick in the book and I should know because I prostituted my good friend Jake and Seth who will forever be remembered for smuggling Seagram's wine coolers on a glorious rainy hike in the white mountains and I will never ever forget "Thick as A Brick" by Jethro Tull coming on the boom box that Seth carried for miles as the wood smoke curled up through the spinning tree branches. These men I traded in as I wanted to buy my way into a cheerleader's perfumed hair along with the popular kids and for my troubles I had Bobby and Jack make fun of me behind my back and Mike threw my camping gear in a fire as others laughed. They abused me and I took it because I thought it made me popular but what it really did was alienate my real friends and made me a loser. I think of that when I enter Target and identify their marketing strategy as "Buy Your Way to Popularity" Ah, here are the same tactics used by Bologna and Cheese. Those lazy manipulative cunts became the marketing dupes of today and they are using the same tired ploy to get my money as once they got my pride. But it won't work anymore, guys. Go stroke your Viagra engorged cocks in the executive rooms alone because I'm not jerking off the company man anymore and I'm going to tell everyone how you are using those old jokes again. I know your secrets. I'm smarter than you. I'm better at everything but you caught me when my pants were down and lowered my self esteem enough to make me think that I needed you. Congratulations, you dirtbags. That's the real motive behind your firestorm of low self esteem campaigns. You want to be needed but you know that you have nothing to offer except plagiarized propaganda with skinny chicks smiling as they buy something. HAHAHAHA. I laugh at my own gullibility. You fooled me with rabbits dressed in wolves heads. You are old and you are tired. You are stupid and your days of predatory methods have come to an end.

Back on track...you can't buy popularity so don't try. Buy what you need to survive. Engage your own personality irrespective of the self esteem you were assigned in home room. That is easy to do because the yellow pages is where you look. And if there isn't a personal name next to the business name then don't go there. Chinese Import businesses may have enslaved the people put out of work by their low prices but it is only a phase that will end when the truth is revealed. The top of the pyramid is forever being supplied the sadistic elite by a paradigm of top down power constructed by the slaves of pre school. 12 years of propaganda to whither your self esteem can be overcome. We will do it together by ignoring the size 4 prostitutes of power and engaging our Buddha selves. We will meditate and we will shout and we will bring down the pillars of injustice one Starbucks coffee stand at a time by using the yellow pages. Yes, we will. We will howl into the ears of music purveyors that the revolution will not have a sponsored soundtrack. It will not be televised. It will not for sale at Target.

If something breaks...fix it. Then you will know the horse* you rode in on.




*Yes, the horse above is an import: Japanese 1974 CL 350. It was imported 37 years ago...which makes it as old as I am and it's grandfathered in along with Mayan poison gourds and dinosaur teeth. Don't waste time splitting hairs over semantics. You know what is right and wrong since your mother told you to eat all the food on your plate and not to take candy from strangers.



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Is that the one with Dual Exhaust or is it the thigh burner?
swellesley

Oggy Bleacher said...

it's the one that will be picked apart until it is scattered across the land on other parts bikes. For anyone who cares, NEVER EVER TAKE THE EXHAUST OFF THESE. There should be a lanyard that keeps the high pipe exhaust within a few feet of the bike because once they are gone they are gone and you have a parts bike that theoretically can be rebuilt but in practical terms will never see the road again.
this project did not come to fruition.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.