everything has to be flashy, or else. the idea is: flashy or die. attention grabby or die. something or die.

this is when the erstwhile, forward-thinking english major would make a passing remark on the effortless parallel herein drawn with the most important question ever asked: “why is there something rather than nothing?” or, why is there something flashy rather than nothing flashy, or grabby, or anything? pick your adjective.

enter: a long sentence with the important parts marked off with commas, a couple of ideas which might not be related, a few phrases whose meager correlation would otherwise be sufficient cause for a brand new sentence. but why would this happen? who would possibly condone that?

the idea is, pack stuff into sentences. the idea is, the bigger the dog, the better the english major. when you have fed your dog all it could possibly eat, feed it more. if necessary, you may fill this dog up like a water baloon and take him on walks and be scared he’ll pop. fight this fear by feeding your dog more food. it must be done.

the bright side is the reading’s still OK. thank god, the reading will always be OK. maybe that’s why they make us write papers. we go back to our rooms and prop ourselves up in corners with pillows and stimulants and then read for eight hours. because we don’t have any papers to write.

here is when the earnest, forthright english major remembers whoever it was who first said that the bright side is most often the product of reverse psychology, except it was only me.