|Been a long time man... Originally mailed on May 19th, this fluffernuttered epistle from Mister Wonderful contains one of my favorite bits, but it's right near the end, after all the stuff that reads like Charles Nelson Reilly dreaming that he's being eaten by a thesaurus. Enjoy!
Why do I love Potrzebie? Dig: the only cable channel they get is a 24-hour loop of Prince's 1984 film, "Purple Rain." Surely that means something.
Means I need to lay off the Jacque Daniels.
You may have noted an absence of abstruse absent-minded absinthe-soaked advice from your absurd answer man, namely moi. This is not due to coconut juice injection or muskrat delights, despite what that vile newsrag, The Daily Vole, insists on reporting about the most needlessly overdressed tourist to encamp on Potrzebian shores since
Arthur Eskimo and His Knights of the Fur Pie - that is, me. Balderdash! I only taste of my own coconuts when no one else will.
In reality, I have been engaged in fevered imagination. Several Potrzebian comic book companies have approached me in an effort to draw near. And what is it they wish to draw close to?
Me! Pay attention. So, anyway. Point is. I've been doing interviews lately. Getting my gestalt germinated. Spreading my good spell amongst the youthful artisans of this island paradise that circles the globe like a silver-buckled halo of enchanted leather.
"Well, what do you think?" came the question.
"I'm glad you asked," I said. "I believe in the promise of technology and the primacy of magic. I believe that the Old Ones are the New Hotness. I believe that some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls' Marshall Mathers. I believe reality disguises illusion and fiction is the first path to the real. I believe that beliefs are laughable and that there is nothing so serious. I believe in cynicism, and have faith in skepticism. I don't believe anything."
"Okay," said the makeup girl. "Ummm... I think they'll want this in the interview."
So, tomorrow I'll answer a query, okay?
Big buckets of love pouring over us all,
WONDERFUL LABS - Your Top Source For Quotidian Party Parley
Tremendously, he began to laugh; there was no end to his joy; his private knowledge of the world pealed forth from purple lips, publishing to all who were aware the secret wisdom, the huge malevolent humour, the undreamed information that crouched concealed in that unholy head beneath that black slouch hat.
- Jack Kerouac,
|Mister Wonderful Recommends: Not a science-fiction writer, Mister Smart Vonnegut.