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Software Vault: The Gold Collection
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Software Vault - The Gold Collection (American Databankers) (1993).ISO
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1993-05-30
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8KB
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87 lines
The Meaning of Life
by Jeffrey Owens
There I was: seventy-two straight hours of transcendental meditation and
I'd passed the Twilight Zone, gone beyond the lunatic fringe, seen Elvis
(he's on the Slim Fast plan and looking pretty good), and reached Nirvana.
God was there.
Well, he looked like god. No one else could dress that badly and get away
with it. Okay, there's Madonna; point taken. But this guy--he was archaic.
Had on this sort of toga thing that was twelve different shades of white. He
was old too, in his billions maybe. Much too old to be going to a toga
party, so you have to figure he meant to dress that way.
Didn't matter. I hadn't come all this way for fashion lessons. I wanted
the meaning of life. Who better to ask?
He was asleep. I tried shaking him awake. You know, a gentle tap on the
shoulder and a, "Hey your Holyness, time to wake up". Creep didn't budge, so
I kicked him--hey, I was in a hurry, alright?
"Uh, what?" he said. "Mikey, is that you? Just a a few more hours, okay?
Then I promise to do something about that AIDS business."
"No, it's me. Noz. Remember?"
Blood-shot eyes squinted at me. He sat up. "Noz? What's a Noz?"
"Me. I'm a Noz. Nice to meet you." I stuck out my hand.
"No. This can't be happening. It's a dream, right? Something Luke
cooked up to spoil my nap?"
"Wrong-o."
"Thought we'd gotten rid of you."
"Why would you do that?"
"Uh? Oh, no reason. Forget it. So, what do you want?"
"The meaning of Life."
"Sure, no problem." He stared at me some more.
"Well, what is it?"
"Can't tell you."
"What?!"
"Against the rules."
"That's great! Came all the way out here for nothing."
God got this sort of gleam in his eye. "I can tell you this," he
whispered. "Television. The signals from television mess up your mind.
That's why the world's screwed-up. Everyone's watching TV. Stop watching
for awhile, you'll see."
"That makes sense."
He nodded, "Sure it does, sure. Now get out of here."
God waved his hand and I was back in my room. But now I had it, not the
meaning of life, no, but a secrete.
That day I began the quest--to not watch TV and see how the world looked.
Part two
No TV....
Two days, no TV, and I start having these dreams, like maybe the TV
signals are reaching out, trying to find me, and not quite connecting.
You know Norm from Cheers? Well, he's there, dressed in green tights
like Errol Flynn. Norm in green tights is something that should never
happen. He has this bow and these arrows and a feather in his pointed hat.
Norman Hood, that's who he is.
"Hey Little Noz," he says. "Ready to rob from the Network and give to the
poor?"
"You bet."
We're in this forest--Holly Wood. Bunch of other people are with us,
we're getting ready to assault the castle to rescue Maid Sinead O'Connor. I
have to wonder: why bother?
"It's in the script," says Bill Clinton Scarlet.
"You think we're over-budget?" I ask.
"Gonna be some cuts," he says.
Right about then Friar Limbaugh comes over and starts giving Bill
a--liberal--tongue lashing. Bill turns red and I start thinking this can't
get worse. Then I get a good look at the "Merry Men"; it's the cast of
Saturday Night Live, old and new. Eddy Murphy is dressed like Gumby, Chevy's
all tangled up in his bow, Wayne and Garth are playing air-guitar with
theirs. Then there's John Belushi in his samurai outfit, hacking at the
bushes, and Dan and Jane--The Coneheads.
"So, where's the sheriff?"
Norman Hood looks at me, like I'm the one trying to burst out of my green
tights. "Billy Ray? He's in the castle, dope. Where'd you think?"
"I'm really, really, trying not to."
(c) 1993, Noz-E-Ated Press