The Museum of Sudden Disappearances

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Monday, June 12, 2017

America's #1 Cliche

WARNING

Can this cliche be stopped?

Hospital ER's Overwhelmed by Verbal Tic Infection

Summer is here. You enjoy a walk in the woods. There's nothing like getting in touch with nature while wearing headphones (noise-canceling, killer cans the size of hubcaps), smoking designer weed nicknamed BrainBurst, while littering beer cans on the hiking trail and sending Zenlike texts to your friends, which cryptically say: K. As you know, that ticks them off.

Which brings to mind "ticks." Ewww. The woods are dangerous, filled with ticks and poison ivy. Perhaps a barefoot walk in your silk micro briefs with mesh ventilation wasn't so smart. At least the smoke from BrainBurst repels the mosquitoes and tsetse flies. Bravo: you had the sense to leave the other designer bud at home, the one called InstaComa. Let's face it, tripping on a dead tree stump crawling with maggots, then collapsing into a doob-induced, three-day coma in the middle of bear and rattlesnake country...isn't what Joni Mitchell had in mind when she sang Woodstock

I'm going to camp out (pass out?) on the land
I'm going to try an' get my soul free
We are stardust
We are golden

But you're nothing if not sensible. Still, you ask: What's the #1 tick in America?



Here at The Museum of Sudden Disappearances, we have no idea. But we can certainly reveal the #1 Verbal Tic in America. And deep down, you already know it. In a sense, it's so obvious, it's hidden. Hidden within plain sound. It's a cyst on society's sociolinguistic tongue.


Note the glazed eyeballs, 
symptomatic of verbal tic addiction
(see Physicians' Desk Reference, page 666).

Before we mention it, beware. Once you see the phrase written here, you will make note, and remember it. The problem? You can never again not hear it. So be warned, you will hear it at least several times each day...day after day after day after day. And each time you hear it, your psychological well-being will take a hit, resulting in an unending erosion of your psyche. Think of it as the verbal equivalent of a cattle prod, a nasty jolt to the ears. 




Still with us? You've been warned. You can stop reading and hit the Museum's exit, hit the crash bar on the door and flee. Otherwise, at the end of the day, you may start to lose your composure. You may punch your head through a wall as America's #1 Verbal Tic grinds into your ears. Because...






Come on, people. How many times have you heard "...at the end of the day...blah blah blah." Turn on the TV news. The radio. Hear it in daily discourse. Over and over like a drumbeat. It's the go-to mindless mantra of our times. These six words, "At the end of the day," have replaced these six words, "When all is said and done." Remember that? Remember when everyone said, "When all is said and done..." Those six words were interchangeable with these six words: "When you get right to it..."

Why is it always six words? Consider this...



Book of Revelation. The Number of the Beast: 666. What if 666 is a Biblical, apocalyptic reference, foreseeing the three dominant verbal tics of the 21st century, which will usher in endtimes? Imagine the world getting incinerated, not by nuclear war, but by a widespread, verbal tic exploding our brains. A weaponized cliche which, after you hear it for the quadrillionth time, detonates inside your skull.



At the end of the day at the end of the day at the end of the day at the end of the day at the end of the day I want to drop to my knees and flat-out scream (like James Brown, live at the Apollo) because at the end of the day I'm at my wit's end.....


How creepy is this? An actual photo of a verbal tic getting under your skin. The tic flies out of your radio while you're listening to a sobering, educational interview on NPR. The tic lands on your ear lobe, burrows in. Now, each time you hear "...(because) at the end of the day," the tic torpedoes a little further along in your bloodstream, heading for your brain.


All we need is to be needed? Is this dude serious? No. All we need is to never again hear, you know, those...six words.


Yes, even Lebron James got bit by the tic at this year's NBA Finals.


No. Caption incorrect. It should read: Lebron says "...at the end of the day, we were down two games, but, you know, at the end of the day it's just day's end which is at the end of the day."


If you made it this far, if you're down here reading this...you're infected. You're aware of the most overused, verbal crutch of the 21st century. Next time you turn on your TV or radio, be warned: the tick will fly out of the speakers and head for your head. It may take a half hour. Or seconds. 


tic transmitter

How will you regain your sanity? You have one option. It's a medical procedure not covered by your insurance. Blue Cross Blue Shield does not cover verbal-tic removal. So you're gonna have to pony up the big bucks. 

This poor dude (pictured below) turned on the radio, and within four measly minutes the tic flew out and hit him in the sweet spot. Mr. Lovejoy was rushed to Massachusetts General Eye, Ear and Tic Clinic, where a surgical team succeeded in flicking the tick. Per doctor's orders, the patient can never again turn on the news.



Perhaps you ask: "What if the patient goes outside and hears someone saying "...at the end of the day," and is again hit by the tic, and has a relapse? 

Well, we Americans are known for our can-do spirit. Look how Mr. Lovejoy and his son, Dudley, solved the problem.  



Whenever Mr. Lovejoy and Dudley emerge from the bunker, they're always dressed in their Calvin Klein beekeeper suits. In the (inevitable) chance that someone stops them on the street, and says, "Hello Mr. Lovejoy and little Dudley! Just so you two know, at the end of the day, I am at peace because my intentions are good and my heart is pure." 

Not to worry. The Lovejoys will be protected. That verbal tic will fly from the speaker's mouth, but bounce off the Lovejoy's beekeeper's masks. 

So you see, a beekeeper's mask can prevent Armageddon. It's important that this blog entry end on such a positive note (after such a litany of horror). Because here at The Museum of Sudden Disappearances...



...we're all about being super positive (six words).