Friday, April 30, 2004

“It has the sensitivity of a cactus, the ingenuity of a square wheel, and the integrity of a CEO,” comments one movie critic on the newly released Godsend. While the quote belongs to him, the italics are entirely mine, gentle reader, as is the sheer indignation. It’s no secret that critics often craft catchy one-liners aplenty, sowing them in their reviews in hopes of appearing on DVD liners.

When these one-liners seek to demolish the good name of innocent citizens, however, one must draw a line in the sand. For starters, I have tons of integrity. Muse and I were shopping one evening when the loudspeaker announced a blue-light special on integrity, which compelled us to stock up right then and there. We proceeded to buy, in Costcoesque bulk, enough integrity to last the rest of our lives. And shit, they even threw in a free toothbrush.

I’ve since been using the integrity on all the important things in life, such as the numerous degrees I’ve earned and the subsequent advice I’ve dispensed. Now, though, is not the time to dispense advice or lecture on the finer things in life. Now is the time to dilute vitriol and defend one’s honor.

First of all, Wes, how exactly did you educate yourself on the “sensitivity of a cactus”? Until today, I’ve been living in blissful ignorance, believing–and still hoping, actually–that cacti lacked the sentience to reflect on themselves and the world. I guess that’s not the case, considering our potted friends apparently weep sweet, hot tears when we talk to them too harshly.

Or perhaps you can comment on the sensitivity of cacti because you are a cactus, a sad, dried out husk with one too many pricks. Oh, cha-ching! It burns, IT BURNS, MY SCATHING REBUTTAL BURNS LIKE “THE INGENUITY OF A SQUARE WHEEL” DOUSED IN GASOLINE AND SET ON FIRE!

I think I’m going to use that toothbrush now.