The Universal Croissant of Universality
Life was God’s niftiest invention, several recipients of which rather buggered it up, this will become obvious as we move along. One of the niftiest places where this niftiest of inventions was bountifully manifest was a small round rock surrounded by layers of atmosphere called Daudumayria; A rather late constituent of which, renamed it ‘Earth’. What a silly name.
These late constituents were known as humans, definitely designed by an incomprehensible intelligence, but more of an afterthought really. Said humans proved to be a novelty of epic proportions as they presupposed they were the most intelligent of all species on their planet. This same notion, held to be fact, is at odds with the real facts, namely that: 1. They are only species on the planet that is particularly terrible to each other and destroys each other at an alarming rate in an alarming number of ways and, 2. Humans are actually the second most intelligent species, second only to granite rocks, which unbeknownst to the warm blooded genocidal mammals until recently, save a spectacular amount of money on rent by staying quite still in one place for an enormously long time.
When this was finally brought to the attention of the British Columbia Ministry of Agriculture and the Canadian Revenue Agency, a joint class-action law suit was filed. Though it received much press, the granite rocks won out for lack of confession after rigorous cross examination. The problem with granite rocks, you see, is that they just don’t bloody talk very much. This is also cited by the new agers as the hallmark of the granite rock’s deep wisdom to be emulated at all costs; hence was born the cult of the Assembly of Serene Silence and Habitual Observers Leering Ever So Serenely. The acronym for such patient people left much to be desired but, true to form, the A.S.S.H.O.L.E.S.S. had very little to say on the matter.
Throughout their brief history, some notable members of the human race stick out, including a very kind, well bearded Semite, Albert Einstein and Oprah Winfrey. Though he would otherwise be unknown, a fourth human warrants some mention for his discovery of a monumental truth; his name is James Harold.
James was daily tormented by the obtuse nature of the people he was surrounded by at work, when shopping for food and especially, whilst driving. James is not a well-schooled fellow, nor a tall fellow and, as people go, not an ugly man. Then again not an overtly handsome man, but a man nonetheless. As thinking men go, James was not very good at thinking like his average male counterparts. He dislikes sports, video games, black socks and the obscene cost of imported cheese in his area, though he loves cheese. A chronic nagging, an innocuous perception that something, most things actually, were very wrong haunted him.
Regardless, James woke up, bright and full of optimism, Monday 5:37 am, as he endeavored to do so on an inconsistent basis; out of all the varied times however, that he awoke inconsistently, was, 5:37 am, making it statistically his preferred time of waking. In fact, James was consistent in one important way, namely, that he was consistently inconsistent.
His general optimistic state, as mentioned, was always vitiated by the sinking notion that after Monday was a day, the very next day, which always followed, with unknown reason to James, left him sick to his stomach. There was something intrinsically iniquitous about this day, the day before Wednesday, which James tried his most earnest not to vocalize. It was one of very few things that made James twitch in near abject horror. In fact it was only this day and perhaps German pragmatism that he seemed to dislike without immediate reason. Though, Tuesdays far outweighed his preoccupations than those of German specificity.
Yes, so, back to Monday. Monday was a brilliant day, so full of potential. This particular Monday was warm, sunny. The infinite, cloudless, azure heavens beckoned all, but most especially James, to stare into its mesmerizing plenitude. And so James stared through the sole window punched into the walls of the warehouse which entrapped him.
“Harold!” Said Jeff, “That’s not yer’ job. Ya’ think staring is gonna help me load my van?”
James rolled his eyes. “It’s James, Jeff, not Harold, you exquisite person of infinite taste.”
“You guys got it so easy in the shop! You should’ve seen what we lifted on site today, you wouldn’t last a day in the field!” Said Jeff unabashed.
“That’s nice Jeff,” James said in a straight voice, “what are we loading then?”
Jeff was the kind of person that could only rightly be described by the term “oofdunk”. As demeaning names go, oofdunk is more onomatopoeia than noun, as most names are. It is, or rather was, the sound the largest low-browed neolith would make (had they existed) upon finally becoming self-aware and having not got his genitals caught in the waist high brambles for a second time that day.
Characteristic of oofdunks is the rather odd coincidence of their having single-syllable names such as Joe, Jim, Jeff, Mac, Matt, Mike, Nick, Bob, Bill, Doug, Dean, Ted, Tom and the like. In fact, it was with such serendipity that this phenomena presented itself it made James squirm. Lastly, said persons also had an inordinate interest for large trucks, guns and watching sweaty, scantily-clad men hit each other despite being hyper-homophobic…
It was at this point that the ambient arrogance of the beleaguered single-syllable mutants that surrounded James finally took its proverbial toll.
“Hey!”. However, before he was able to finish, James decided that it would be far more pleasurable to simply not do what he was asked to do. With that he parted leaving only the memory of a single-digit salute for Jeff and his crumpled confused countenance.
James was never late for that job again.