Helloooooooooo ladies and gentlemen of the jury! How are you doing? How has your week been? Your month? Your quarter? Your whole damn year? Mine has been weird, which doesn’t say much because I have concluded that weird is the least effective adjective one can use as an illuminating descriptor in the entire dictionary. It can mean anything, good or bad. How does this ice cream taste? “Weird.” How are you feeling? “Weird.” Do you see how by answering these questions I’m not answering them at all?
If you are wondering whether I have lost it, the jig is up, I probably have. But I’m digressing. Man, I feel like a kid of 21, blogging into a computer with reckless abandon. Will THEY edit me? Will they not? It’s been like, three days since I hit my finger tips to this keyboard and let the words flow out of my brain. It’s also been like, days, since the words flowing out of my brain have sounded like anything more than BLOO BLEEP BLA BLING KRING TING LING SHANTI. (In case you didn’t pick up on that, those words don’t actually mean anything, at least not in my native Language of the Hidden Temple.)
Nothing. Never mind. Let’s stop beating around the bush — the point is that Monocycle is back and so long as I don’t accidentally fuck up my life or it doesn’t accidentally fuck me up (see: December 2016), my anticipation is that we (Monocycle, Malcolm Gladwell and me) are back for the long haul. The long haul! So sit back, relax, grab a coffee and enjoy the next 11 minutes.
Photo by John Rawlings/Condé Nast via Getty Images.