Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Please Keep to the Left; That’s Where the Less Horrible Posts Are

with 2 comments

Oh, hello. I can see many unfamiliar faces in the crowd today, so perhaps a little tour of Mightier Than The Pen is in order. If you’ll read right this way, please.

This is our main entrance to the facility. Thag sits in this out-of-place dining room chair for long periods, ostensibly trying to think of what to write. In reality, a good chunk of that time is spent thinking about food and seething about his kids’ latest achievements in household deconstruction. Just two days ago, for example, after the little darlings played with the window screen in their bedroom, he was forced to put it back in position; naturally, it ripped completely off the frame at the bottom, rendering it useless in the neverending existential war against mosquitoes. So Thag sat right here, when he should have been working, wondering whether all children were as talented at finding things to break, of if his alone could claim that distinction.

In this next room, Thag keeps his previous posts. Some have aged better than others, as you can tell. He had to put down one or two when it became clear that they would never amount to anything. A couple of others are barely hanging in there, and it might make sense one day soon to put them out of their misery. This one, for instance, is a collection of New York Times headlines that Thag misread, and for some reason thought that others would be interested in what he thought they said. Just beyond that, in the next row back, is one in which he tried to write as if he were not such a cynic, and vomited before he could get past the first paragraph.

Of course there have been some successes, albeit small ones. That framed one over there on the wall nearly went viral; the one just below it generated almost a hundred comments, but from only about five people. Yes, that’s right, people with no lives, it stands to reason. If you look more closely, you’ll see that the vast majority of those comments are from Thag himself.

In this next room we have the kitchen where Thag wanders when he misinterprets writer’s block as hunger. Underneath those unsightly stacks of dirty dishes, pots and pans are actual countertops, and you can see where the sink would be by observing where the stacks don’t seem to reach as high. Watch your step near the refrigerator, please – there’s still a wad or two of this morning’s cornflakes and milk that the toddler decided the floor needed more than he did.

Now if you’ll follow me back to where Thag sits to write his posts, you’ll notice the window that faces the neighbors he’s always going on about, the ones with the unorthodox ideas about child-rearing: leaving the kid alone as he chucks random items from the yard into the street; not noticing that the kid has spent the afternoon stacking bricks and sharp objects in the path of oncoming cars. The location of the computer also makes verbal communication with Mrs. Thag quite difficult, as she tends to address him from her¬†computer terminal on the floor above – I’m afraid I can’t take you there, as it’s a restricted area; it’s where the kids’ bedrooms are. Hazardous materials and all that.

Well, that’s more or less it for the tour. Feel free to poke around and have a look at the detritus that Thag has produced in the last year or so. I’m sure you’ll find it, uh, unique.

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Written by Thag

June 17, 2011 at 9:34 am

2 Responses

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  1. Reading about the window screen, I expected you to extemporize on “spline” – imagine my disappointment.

    David Shaffer

    June 17, 2011 at 9:40 am


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