Kaleidoscope? No Thanks. I Have Something Better.Posted: May 28, 2012
Kaleidoscopes suck. Unless you have chugged an enormous amount of medication, they remain entertaining for about five minutes.
Let me tell you a story to illustrate what a lousy toy the kaleidoscope is. I was in a gift shop the other day. There’s no need for you to get all hung up on what I was doing in a gift shop. I was there. I was there when a woman asked her granddaughter if she wanted a kaleidoscope. Do you know what the little girl said?
She said no. This was a rare event. No child ever says no to a gift from Grandma. Even a box of socks from Grammy might have cash at the bottom. No way any child on top of her game turns down the Grandma gift. Yet this girl said no to the gift of a kaleidoscope.
It is a fact that, under normal circumstances, a child who is on top of her game does not turn down the Grandma gift. The phrase “under normal circumstances” implies there is an exception. The only exception to the Grandma gift rule is if the gift is at the top of the lousiness rankings, no is an acceptable answer. The girl did not seem to be a rule breaking desperado. She wasn’t turning down just any gift, just the worst one.
And Then I Heard Angels Sing As I Had A Brilliant Idea
I had a revelation in that gift shop. It doesn’t matter why I was in the gift shop. I’m telling you that I had a revelation about how I’d improve the kaleidoscope. I’d change it to a collideoscope.
The mechanics of how my collideoscope will work is not important. Like so many other things, what will be important is that I have it and other people don’t. I’ll go to great lengths to make sure that other people know that I have it. You see, when it comes to the collideoscope, their knowledge is my power.
Once someone knows I have a collideoscope, I will be able to bend them to my will. I’ll take the device out and start to raise it to my eye. Knowing what it is, they’ll say something like “hey, don’t look at me through that thing”. I’ll say what I want, like “I want you to rent a beach house for my use”. They’ll comply out of fear that I’ll look at them through my magic scope and envision their eventual collision with someone or something.
As soon as I use up my next roll of paper towels, I will get a marker and write COLLIDEOSCOPE on it in big bold letters. Lightning bolts before and after the word might make it scarier. I might add drawings of car crashes and of people bumping their heads on open cabinet doors. Even people who I haven’t explained it to will gather the impression that bad stuff happens to those who fall under the gaze of me and my collideoscope. This will be the first version of the device. If you see me whip it out on someone, play along…unless you just don’t like beach houses.