02 August 2012
Destiny
My first memory was the cold steel running along my sides with this gooey stuff sliding all over, along the surface of me until every inch was covered. The goop oozed into every pore until it had seeped deep inside of me to where there was no chance at cleaning it out, even if I was able to try.
“Hey! HEY! What’s goin’ on? The hell are you doing?!” I yelled.
I thought it was strange that only one side of me was covered, before they moved on to the other half. This time the goop felt completely different. It wasn’t as sticky, but it was thick, suffocating in texture until I felt my pores would asphyxiate underneath it. The contrast of the two sides of me was amazing. One side was thick like plaster, but the other side was oozing and sticky like dough that was too wet or not mixed right. The combination of the two sensations made me feel incredibly awkward, like each half of me was something completely different than the other.
Before I could react, I was floating in the air, and the two sides were coming closer at an increasing amount of speed until they were slammed together. When I regained my wits, the first thing I noticed was the extremely painful headache I had, but then the two sensations were combined into this mesh of thickly suffocating goop that was oozing around inside of me.
I looked up and noticed my parents standing around me. I could read the concern etched all over them, like parents often do when they just witnessed one of their children get hurt, even before they clearly came into view and the double vision passed. They were talking, but it took a bit before what they were saying completely registered.
“…you’re destiny, son. It’s what you were born to do! You’ll be doing such a good deed in this, and we’re so very proud of you. Now, you must prepare, because this journey will be hard,” Mom said.
I needed to prepare? As that question crossed my mind, what they had said earlier finally registered. My destiny was to give my life for the greater good of a child I had never met? What? What child? What IS a child, anyway?
That sounded like a pretty horrible life to me. I mean, who wants to go out in a blaze of glory to help someone else, probably not receive any recognition for it, but it was still part of a worthy cause. Right, like that is believable. It all sounded like I was being fed a line, and a pretty terrible one at that. I had to find a way out of this life.
My destiny, as they called it, haunted me like nothing else. It followed me everywhere I went. Everyone that passed by me knew what my purpose in life was, and I hated every second of it. Every time I talked to someone they went on and on about how lucky I was to have this life: the savior of a hungry child. Not only that, but I was lucky enough to be able to ride in a lunchbox! Yeah, more like a locked container of doom and despair offering nothing more than death when it arrived at its destination. I’m pretty sure this is where I should cue the guillotine drums.
I started playing the part of a rebellious teenager. I refused to do anything my parents said, doing what I could to hopefully make them disown me, which I was convinced would release me from the bond of my calling in life. Simply put, I was the worst offspring in all of history. If something was deemed bad or wrong, I did it. I chose a few bad apples as my friends to run around with. The stink we made was horrendous! We got into all the bad stuff, partied all hours of the day and night, skipped out on school, and there was once I was found in a compromising position with my girlfriend. She was a bit cheesy anyway, and I ended up dumping her shortly after that.
I felt the cool steel of the knife again. This time, it was much different. I felt the sharp edge of it cutting deep into me. It sliced down from one edge of me to the other. I screamed out in pain as the knife was dragged over the top of me. As it reached the end and pulled away, I felt I could breathe again, and tried to retain my sanity. Before I could I felt the knife slicing me the other way. I was cut into four pieces!
The searing pain left from these cuts was worse than anything I could imagine. I started praying, begging, and pleading for forgiveness for my transgressions deeming them as nothing more than rebellious teenage behavior and far from requiring this kind of punishment. I felt wronged, violated in the worst ways possible, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t even put myself together.
As I was trying to recover from this atrocity, I was shoved into a little plastic bag and set in a cold dark room. My parents hadn’t lied; this life was hard, indeed. The abuse I received just because of my destiny made me hate it even more. I abhorred it so much. I refused to believe this was the end of it all, and that even though I was in the container of doom and despair, there just had to be something more I could do. There was no way the end was this close, or that I wasn’t about to go out without a fight.
I tried desperately to think of something that I could do to make this child, whatever that was, to not want me anymore. I talked with the others in the container. I tried convincing them, appealing to their basic instincts that we were worth so much more than this. If we joined together and refused to accept our fate, there was no way we could lose. I mean, there were four of us, more if you counted each individual carrot stick and cookie, and only one child.
I had it all plotted out. We would wait until this child opened the lid to this container, then, without giving him a chance to see what was going on, we would start launching the carrot sticks like spears at him. After that, we would all run in different directions so that he couldn’t possibly catch all of us, and at that point it was every man for himself. The plan was fool-proof! We couldn’t—wouldn’t fail! There was simply no way we could.
The apple, being the smartass he was, was rude enough to point out the fact that none of us had feet, and that would make it rather difficult to run. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t an arm between the lot of us, so how would we possibly throw the carrot sticks like spears. Then the carrot sticks piped in with how much they really didn’t want to be thrown, and that they were convinced that sounded pretty painful anyway. The cookies were just bouncing around hyper on some kind of sugar high that couldn’t be contained, so they were useless for much of anything anyway. There goes that plan, smashed to bits by a bunch of pessimists who don’t realize the severity of the situation. We were all going to die a horrible gruesome death at the hands, or more precisely the mouth of this child, and I was the only one that cared.
I resigned myself to my fate before one more idea hit. I had seen in the fridge these funny looking guys. They said they were there as a prank, that no one liked the way they tasted anyway, so they weren’t too worried about the whole being eaten thing. What did they call themselves again? They had little tiny eyes and were nothing more than heads with no bodies. Oh yeah! That’s what they were—dried fish heads! They were these absolutely disgusting looking things that were a delicacy in some country or another. There was no way these guys could ever taste good under any sane circumstance! All I had to do was will myself to taste like them, or at least look like them. Then, I would be safe and no kid would ever want to eat me.
I knew my time was running out. I could just feel a cloud of depression and seriousness hanging over me, shrouding any sense of a regular long life I felt I should have had. If there was a way I could change into a dried fish head, I had to figure it out, and now. I closed my eyes and thought nasty dried fish head thoughts. I pushed everything else out of my head and concentrated on just this one thought. It had to work. I opened my eyes and looked around. I didn’t feel any different, but maybe it still worked.
“Did it work? What do I look like now? Here smell me. What do I smell like?” I asked the apple, who was closest.
“Ya look like an idiot, and I’m NOT gonna smell you. Just accept what you are and let the rest of us have some peace already!” he replied.
With that idea not working, I decided on a new one. I would convince the carrot sticks to spear me. That way I wouldn’t look appetizing at all and wouldn’t be eaten. So I made my way to the carrot sticks.
“Hey, you guys would be willing to help out a poor sandwich, right? I mean, I’m not bad enough to deserve to be eaten,” I said.
“How?” they asked.
“Well, I was just thinkin’ if you were to spear me, I wouldn’t look good or edible anymore,” I replied.
“HA HA HA! Apple’s right, you’re an idiot! If we spear you, it will hurt like when you were cut, and you’ll wish you were dead!” they laughed.
I looked over at the cookies and tried to judge if they would be any help at all. They were playing hide-and-seek, but no one was hiding. So it was more one would close their eyes and count, then turn around and shout, “I found you and you and you!” I was pretty sure they were retarded or dropped too many times or something. There was no way they could help me.
I was left with one other option: the thermos full of milk. I needed to find some way to present my case to the milk that would be convincing. The milk typically had a very sweet personality, like it was everyone’s mother. Maybe I should have started here all along.
“Hey milk, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but can I ask you something? Just a small favor, really,” I asked.
“Sure, Deary. How can I help you?” Milk replied.
“Well, I really don’t want to be eaten and I have been trying to find a way to make myself unappetizing so that this child won’t want to eat me anymore. Do you think you could possibly spill some milk on me so I get soggy and he won’t eat me?” I ask as sweet and innocently as I can.
“Now, how do you think that would make everyone else feel, if you get out of being eaten and all? Not to mention, no one else wants to get wet with milk. And the child is so looking forward to you. You are a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! That’s always been his favorite. I think you should just go along with it, and do your job. It will all be okay,” she replied.
Well, crap. Not only did I now not have a way out of being eaten, but I also felt bad for trying to thwart the child’s favorite part of lunch. He was counting on me after all. But wait, I still don’t want to be eaten!
The lunch box jostled and we all bounced around a bit before the lid started to open and I braced myself for the worst. As the lid opened all the way, the anticipation was too much for the cookies, and their cream filling dripped out a bit from the sheer terror the anticipation caused. I saw a small face peer in, but he looked so sweet and innocent. It was hard to believe that this young person was a hungry monster that would eat us all up. Maybe, just maybe, Milk was right. He did look pretty close to starving, or at least what I thought starving looked like.
I was just starting to warm up to the idea that maybe being eaten wasn’t the end of the world after all. But then a hand reached in, grabbing a cookie and pulling it out of the lunch box.
“He picked me! He picked me!” the cookie shouted excitedly.
Shock overtook every one of my senses as the scene unfolded in front of me. The cookie’s screams were cut off suddenly as the boy took a bite and started chewing. How awful! I was right all along! I knew I had to get out of this situation from the beginning, and that just confirmed my initial thought.
The boy’s hand reached in again after another cookie. He grabbed them all, but they didn’t go to his mouth. Instead they went somewhere next to the lunch box. After that, the carrot sticks went to the same place, then the milk. The hand came in again, this time reaching for me. I cringed when the boy grabbed me, feeling his fingers squish into me with a rather uncomfortable amount of force, and I was set down outside of the lunchbox.
I knew this would be my one and only chance to get out of there if I was going, so I started to wiggle around in such a way that would get me away from the massacre. I stopped to assess the situation and find the best path to take out of there when I noticed for the first time what was going on around me. There were these little, sweet looking short people everywhere, but they were far from sweet. All around me, as far as I could see, what I could only assume were children swarmed into this room and were shoving sandwiches and apples and all varieties of what I had seen, come to know as friends and acquaintances in the short time I was with my parents, being shoved into the mouths of the children that looked so sweet and innocent like the one that had taken me out of the lunchbox. I was right all along!
Horrified and now deathly afraid, I knew I had to get out of there as fast as I could. There was no time to lose as I knew my time was coming a lot quicker than I was comfortable with. I wiggled and squirmed and scuttled along the table as fast and as hard as I possibly could. There was no way at all I was going to stick around for this. I discovered very quickly that Apple was right. Running was very slow going when you had no legs.
I caught glimpses of carrot stick after carrot stick being bitten in half by the child that had gotten me out of the lunchbox. Each bite caused me to only try harder to get a way faster. I heard a cacophony of noise around me. The combination of laughter, very animated talking, and cries and screams was so overpowering, to my hearing that I was convinced I would never hear again if I made it out alive. I thought it a small price to pay if it meant I had, in fact, made it out alive.
I looked back to see the progress I had made. The apple appeared smaller, and I could only take that as meaning I had made it further away from where I was in my attempt to escape the doom that I knew to be coming. I looked forward, and for the first time I saw a line that had appeared. I could only assume that this line meant a place to hide, so I angled my frantic wiggling towards it. Keeping my eye on my goal, my wiggles got more precise. I discovered that if I moved just right, I would go closer to the line rather than off to the side. I tried again, attempting to move straight towards the line, but I kept ending up going a little to the side as I could only move one side of my body at a time. Moving the left side, then the right, then the left again was the pattern I followed. I kept alternating the side I put the forward thrust behind as I moved closer and closer to the line. It started looking more and more like a gap that got ever so slightly bigger with each thrust I made. I knew I could make it if given enough of a chance; I just had to keep following the same pattern I was doing and I would be there in no time, able to hide in the gap that kept growing as I continued forward.
I glanced back once again to see how far I had made it. The only thing left that I saw of the friends that were to share the same fate as me this dark day was a few bags and the thermos of milk. My friends! That evil child had eaten them all, not even leaving a small piece behind for those of us mourning their life!
I saw the hand again headed towards me. I had to get away now or all hope of me surviving this massacre was lost. I started wiggling again. Left then right then left again. The gap got bigger and bigger and I was starting to feel hope that I had made it.
Suddenly, I felt the fingers digging into my sides again, gripping me in a death hold I knew I couldn’t get out of. I felt like I was floating again like the time my two sides had been slammed together. It was then I decided that the feeling of floating was never, ever a good thing to feel as something bad always seemed to happen when I floated. The bag I was in was opened and one part of me was pulled out. Not only was this child bad enough to eat me, but he was going to torture me by doing it piece by piece, making me watch in tortured agony as he did it!
Part by part, I went in. Luckily, as that part of me was separated from the rest, I seemed to lose all feeling in that part allowing me to pretend it wasn’t happening. I closed my eyes and thought back to happier times. The friends I had left behind. My parents and the warning they gave me. This was for the benefit of the child. I was doing a good deed in giving my life right now. There was no higher honor for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich such as myself.
I decided that I would go out with honor at that moment. I would be the brave sandwich that gave his life for the greater good of this child, as monster-like as he was. This is what I was born to do. It was, after all, my destiny. How could I let my parents down? They had raised me to be what I am today, after all.
Sometimes
Sometimes.
Sometimes it’s easier to live only by the light of the day.
Sometimes it’s easier to hide from your fears.
Sometimes it’s easier to curl up and say “not today.”
Sometimes it’s easier to lock away the tears.
Sometimes.
Sometimes what’s easier isn’t always right.
Sometimes what’s easier ends up causing more pain.
Sometimes what’s easier blocks out the light.
Sometimes what’s easier holds back any gain.
Sometimes.
Sometimes support seems so far away.
Sometimes a smile is too hard to greet.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember how to play.
And sometimes it’s almost too hard to stand on your own two feet.
Almost. But I’m stronger than that.
Right?
12 September 2011
Penguin Ramblings
Whoever said penguins couldn’t count? I mean, opposable thumbs or even fingers aren’t needed to figure math. I’ve always had a brain for mathematics. I could figure a problem faster than most in my class, and even when I reached the upper levels like Algebra and Calculus, I still didn’t have much difficulty figuring out the problems. However, I did need a special calculator. Small buttons and flippers don’t exactly get along, you know.
Now that penguins have been integrated into society for the intelligent creatures we really are, I was able to gain a job as an accountant. Now that’s the life: surrounded by numbers all day long. Who could ask for anything more? Not me. Well, maybe a cute little penguin to start a family with, but that’s next on my list.
Most people that hear I’m an accountant automatically think I keep the books for FLIPPR. You see most people who know of the existence of the Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, FLIPPR for short, automatically think all penguins have a membership or at least subscribe to their ideals. FLIPPR is really just a bunch of tough guys, err…penguins, that formed a mafia and came up with a long name just so the abbreviation could somewhat resemble the word flipper. Really, they are all just a bunch of bullies. In all my life, I have never seen such a strong stereotype put into place. The second any penguin is seen on the street, there is automatic fear or concern for personal safety.
I get this sort of treatment a lot, working in accounting as I do. Someone comes in to pay their bill, sees me, and automatically they are afraid I might do something to them, or that I am going to steal their money and use it to help fund some FLIPPR excursion or another. Sadly, they never take the time learn about the real me. I am actually really easy to talk to, and am willing to hold a conversation about anything with anyone. You know the small chit-chat that goes along with waiting for the computer to process a check and produce a receipt. Usually, my customers are lost in their own world of fear and the stereotypes of my species to hold any kind of a decent conversation. Not to mention, how many people would believe a penguin, of all beings, would know all the current information on sports? You know, the latest team trades, who the biggest players are, who has the best shot to go all the way.
I had to work hard to get to where I am today. I fought this stereotype that the other penguins created, to get an honest, legitimate job. I was top in all my classes, worked and studied hard, and I always double check my figures to make sure there are no mistakes. Luckily, I came across an employer who saw my track record with numbers, and understood that the quality of an employee’s work was far more meaningful than the stereotype associated with that employee. Stereotypes and prejudices are for close minded people who don’t value the diversity that is out there today anyway.
There once was one person who felt the need to inform my boss that he had a penguin—a PENGUIN!—working for him. She went on and on about how unfaithful we are, about how all we do is drink alcohol and steal peoples’ women right from under their noses. She explained about how she had a penguin steal her purse, smacking her on the ass as he ran off. This lady was convinced that I was a shady figure, stealing the company’s money to finance my outside endeavors she was dead-set I had going on in my off time.
I overheard all of this, and boy did it make me feel like crap! I mean, I try to make sure I present a professional look about myself and go about my job like anyone else in the office would. Normally I am overdressed due to the tuxedo that is just part of my body. I know it’s overboard, but I can’t help it. What I look like isn’t something I can change. I was born this way. I have never made fun of someone either in front of them or behind their back because of how they looked. That’s just plain rude any way you try to dress it up as acceptable.
The day after hearing the woman’s comments, I did not want to go into work. I lay in my bed, pondering the hurtful words she had spoken. Who wouldn’t be depressed when overhearing someone say such rude things about them based only on what they are and what they look like rather than their work quality? I finally did go into work, late. I went straight into my boss’s office to explain why I was late. He took the time to hear me out, and then mentioned that he told her yesterday, after she was done spewing her negativity, that if she had that big of a problem with one of his employees, he wouldn’t be able to do business with her anymore. Now, that is one understanding boss.
* * *
Now, for your six o’clock evening news report.
The “Equality Act” is in full effect. This Act that gained much publicity recently that allows our flightless flippered counterparts lawful equal rights. A penguin managed to work his way up to a managerial position. A lot of concern resonated at this news from the biped other populations as far as how this Act would affect them. High on the list are concerns such as employment ratios, safety, medical coverage, housing and food supplies.
A spokes-penguin tried to dissuade these fears by stating, “There will be no foreseeable changes to the majority of systems that are in place now. All we ask is a decent, fair chance at earning an income and providing for our families. Our desires are the same as any human may have.”
Numerous discussions have occurred, considering how the “Equality Act” opens up the chances of penguins holding service-based jobs, about penguins starting their own medical and insurance practices to help maintain both parties’ employment ratios. It will definitely be interesting to see how this situation pans out. Can humans and penguins really get along in a society together?
* * *
Wash the windows. Empty the garbage, sweep, mop, and vacuum. All while putting on a happy face and pretending I love my job. And don't even get me started on the toilets! You probably can't even imagine how difficult mopping without opposable thumbs can be. I'm always dropping the mop because it is forever slipping out of my flippers. How is a penguin supposed to work like this? On top of that, I have overheard those blasted humans talking about me and laughing at me when they think I'm not around. I am convinced they make bigger messes and have more lights burn out when they know I'm working. As if I didn't have a hard enough time with it all without all the extra hardships. Plus, I'm dressed way too well for this job!
Don’t get me wrong, I tried for something better than this. For the longest time, I dreamed of being a fighter pilot. I spent my childhood acting out dogfights, pretending to fly around in an imaginary plane. Penguins are birds. We have wings. Why is it so wrong that one would have dreams of flying like all the other birds, or better? If you can’t adapt, improvise, right? Well, anyway, I went to take the flight test, finally after years of study and dreaming and doing all I could to get into the flight program, and what did I find? That’s right, controls that were made for humans, and no alterations for penguins.
That was okay, just a minor setback that could be fixed in time, but when I first walked into that classroom on the very first day, the looks I got were nearly unbearable! They made me feel like such an outsider I didn’t think any of those people had heard about the Equality Act, even as well publicized as it was. Either that or they just didn’t care about it. I was always an outsider, so I decided to choose my seat wisely and ignore the looks until I could prove myself smart enough to be in that program. Unfortunately, the teacher and department head weren’t any better. I mean, my name is generic enough that it could word for either human or penguin. Once they discovered I was the later rather than the former as they had previously thought, I was in for it! They never gave me a chance and threw every hardship they could get away with my way. The discrimination was almost palpable there was so much, not to mention the hostility. I guess “fighter pilot penguin” had the type of ring to it that one of those FLIPPR guys would have. I had no ill intentions towards humans in any form. All I wanted to do was fly as any winged bird should.
Maybe those FLIPPR guys are right. Penguins aren't treated right regardless of the "Equality Act" that was passed. Yeah, we can hold all the same jobs. Yeah, we can be on the same teams, and do everything they can. And yeah, I guess it's better now than it was before the Act. Then, we were on the streets, barely able to make it, not knowing where we were going to sleep one night to the next, not knowing what our next meal would be, let alone when. Oh, and don't get me started on the nights! Extremely cold and damp, noise so loud that you would think it was daytime there was so much going on! If your spot was discovered by any humans, they would not only make you stay there, but they would call Animal Control! Can you believe it?! I doubt it could get any more degrading than that. Especially since all we were trying to do was eke out a living much the same as any of them. It was like all we were to them was a bunch of cute, cuddly little animals with no brains or heart or aspirations for ourselves or our society.
Well, we'll show them! We'll prove to them that we are more intelligent than they think and that we will fight for the respect we deserve!
* * *
We interrupt this program for an urgent news brief.
Recent suspicions hold that chimpanzees have joined the Penguin Revolution. Chimps, in their cunning ability to woo humans with tricks then steal objects from them have stockpiled weapons for years. A stash of these weapons was uncovered in Sweden.
A spokes-penguin for the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, more commonly known as FLIPPR, stated, "Penguins have no need to revolt against humans, and especially have no need of any aid by the genetic relatives of humans. All FLIPPR wants is to promote equality for those of us that are vertically challenged and are forced to be clothed in formal attire."
In response to this claim, a Swedish chimpanzee retorted, "OO OO, EE EE." Experts translated this to mean, "We were paid a profit to help the penguins in their revolution against the humans. We have no ill feelings or loyalties to either. The penguins merely offered more shiny objects as payment. We are now fully aware of and apologize for the confusion that ensued due to our choice in whom to aid."
Concern resounds with this situation as the penguins have been known to deploy "cute and cuddly" operations world-wide. We do not know at this time which side of the story to believe so we are asking people to be cautious and avoid all things cute and/or cuddly, just to be safe. It would also be wise to store food, and keep small children indoors. We ask that those with the knowledge of any FLIPPR safe-houses contact the local authorities with the information immediately.
We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming.
* * *
Why do people give us the stereotype of being mercenaries? I mean, yeah, some of us are the out-there, in-your-face military type, but honestly, not all of us are. Some just want to live a peaceful life, not be involved in taking over the world, or exacting revenge for mistreatments on anyone. Some of us have other talents, thank you very much.
I, for one, can tap dance. No, not in order to distract people while my compatriots take their money, or inflict some kind of hypnosis on them. No, sir! I am a legitimate tap dancing penguin. The nice thing is I don't have to worry about dressing up, or dry cleaning a tux. Mine is fully attached to me, causing my clothing bill to be very minimal. Of course, I have to buy tap shoes. You know, when those have to be custom made, they can be expensive! I mean, tap shoes aren't exactly cheap to begin with, but regular ones just don't fit flippers. But, that doesn't mean I go around getting the money for them illegally.
I started out young, tapping in just my flippers on the street corner with my hat on the ground looking for handouts. Those don't come easy, people! Especially when you are a penguin and people think you are going to hurt them somehow, or turn them into zombies or what have you. Anyway, I was standing on street corners tapping away even in the rain! I was cold, hungry, sleeping in a cardboard box. More than once a passing truck or bus sprayed water over me from a puddle in the street. Did they stop to help me out? Of course not, but I was merely a penguin and the Equality Act was still being debated. People looked at me warily thinking I was going to steal something, but no, I never stooped to that level. I merely window shopped until I could afford to buy whatever I needed. I hung out around the burning barrels at night hoping for a little bit of hobo stew. Man, did that stuff wreak havoc on my body! Hardly any of the time was there any fish in those stews, but it was something to ease the pain in my stomach. Slowly, more and more people saw what I was doing, and saw my talent. Very slowly I rose to tap on Broadway. So slowly, in fact, that it seemed at times as if I were moving backwards, but I still made it!
That's like one of my good friends from South America. She, like me, is on the small side, but you know, that doesn't get her down. I mean, it's better than being an Emperor penguin. Those guys have some issues. They think that they already rule the world just because the word Emperor is in their name. Talk about a complex!
Anyway, back to my friend. She writes. Mostly news articles, giving the people a first-hand view of what is happening on the penguin front so they can be informed. She's the one that first got people to see through that "cute and cuddly" front. Now, that took courage. She had all the other penguins up in arms against her, had hits out on her from the penguin mafia, death threats, and attempts on her life. She had to go into hiding for a while there and only came out after making a deal with the Penguin Mafia Overlord saying that she wouldn't infiltrate their ranks and report their tactics to the common man again, that if the people wanted to resist the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, that they would have to figure it out on their own.
Now, FLIPPR, as they are more commonly known, in my opinion is a load of crock. What do we need liberated from? And who exactly is the Internal Penguin Population? Half of their title I am convinced is there for the sole purpose of having an acronym that sounds like flipper. How cruel to our kind on their part? I mean, it's not like we have those awesome thumbs or anything, or even fingers for that matter! Do you know how hard it is to grab a cup of hot chocolate with a flipper!
Wait. Wait... Oh no! I hear them coming! First they silence my friend for her comments, and now they are coming after me! I can hear them on the steps. If anyone reads this, please....PLEASE remember that not all the penguins are ba. . .
* * *
This just in!
Penguin chicks have been found naked all over the Atlantic. The cause of this atrocity is as of yet unknown. However, experts have taken to calling it “feather-loss disorder.” We all know that humans are not always adept at aiding penguins in their problems or, as we can plainly see, naming them decently. Penguin scientists have monitored the situation and came to the conclusion that there is some sort of poisoning going on. They have yet to conclude the cause of this poisoning, but want to assure the public that they are working hard to devise a solution to this situation as quickly as they can.
More to come as this story unfolds.
* * *
Really? That’s the best name they could come up with? Our chicks are losing their feathers, probably due to some chemical created by either the humans or FLIPPR in an attempt to breed hatred against our pale, fleshy counterparts. And they called it something as absurd as “feather-loss disorder”? We are all brothers here. The real enemy is FLIPPR and their cause to bring down the humans giving the rest of us penguins a bad reputation while they are at it.
But what have the humans done to us? They passed the “Equality Act” that allowed for penguins to function in society as the intelligent individuals we are. They cut back on their fish consumption for no reason other than to give us the food supply we need. And the list doesn’t end there. So many things have humans done to help us out, and yet, FLIPPR insists on running our names down. They insist on the need of a mafia to revolt against the humans for more rights. They don’t understand that change never happens overnight, and with them wreaking havoc the way they do, it’s no wonder humans maintain their distrust and prejudices against us.
I mean, I could never have become the news reporter I am today without that Act the humans passed. That’s right. I write stories and then share them with the public. And here all along, you thought “Penelope Penguin” was just a pen-name for some Homo Sapien with a cruel sense of humor. No one would believe that a penguin could report anything of worth. Maybe a few articles on fish migration patterns, or maybe one or two on Global Warming and how that affects the ice in Antarctica.
I think I impressed them all. When I was just starting out, I was just a measly little rock-hopper penguin. I was shy, naive, and barely had enough money to survive. The Equality Act came along, and the few friends I had encouraged me to start writing news articles. I always had a way with words, but technology and my lack of self confidence were against me. I needed a special program that would type spoken words just to be able to get an article out there. Luckily, I found one that didn’t cost too much. After that, the writing itself was easy and all I had to do was find stories that the public would be interested in. I started out looking for stories that would appeal to just penguins, but quickly realized that the human population might be interested in some of the stuff I was discovering, for example, the story of the Front of the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution. I mean, how would their cause not matter to penguins and humans alike?
However, that story was sadly before it’s time. I made that report when they weren’t much more than just a bunch of silly rebelliously hearted chicks running around talking about ‘change’ and ‘inequality,’ ‘fighting against the oppressive government’ and other topics very similar to those seen in human’s history as well. I mean, what were the topics in the era of The Beatniks? Change. Inequality. Fighting against the oppressive government. The cause was the same, but somewhere along the lines, it spiraled out of control.
Slowly, the threats became more and more serious. Larger and larger on the scale until it would be a mistake to take their threats with a scoff, mild disdain, an upturned nose and a flick of the wrist brushing it aside. It went from mild mistreatment, to stealing people’s alcohol and women. After that, there were a few bomb threat rumors, but nothing really materialized from them. They were enough to gain the general public’s attention.
Where will it go from there? Well, my friends, there is no real way to tell for sure.
* * *
Breaking News Flash!
Hard working penguins have come up missing. There seems to be a connection between those profiled and gave their opinions on daily life for regular penguins in a recent set of blogs discovered and read by the masses. These blogs have increased in publicity as the attacks on humans, taken for granted before, have increased in number and severity.
Not many Homo Sapiens have noticed said losses due to the inadvertent segregation that has occurred after the passing of the Equality Act. Some Penguins see this Act as a smoke and mirrors effect in order for Humans to feel as though they are doing the right thing without actually having to do anything.
However, the penguin workforce has suffered serious losses in fields such as accounting, news reporting, the Arts, as well as others. If you are a penguin, or concerned about our flightless friends, please pass the word along. One loss is one too many.
Now back to the regular programming.
* * *
Nowadays, it is getting really difficult to be a door-to-door salesman. I mean, sure, I bet the vacuum cleaner sales-penguins have no trouble, but those of us selling state-of-the-art knife sets? Man, the looks people give you are incredible! I don’t think it could be worse if I were to actually have a stamp on my forehead that read “Official Member of FLIPPR.” Not that I am. Not by a long shot. I’m just trying to support my family, and make sure all the bills are paid. With four chicks at home, one of which has come down with that blasted “feather-loss disorder”. It’s not a very pretty sight to see one of your own young chicks waking up with the bed covered in his own feathers. I mean, really. It’s gruesome and sad, indeed it is.
But, alas, I must make a living, so here I am selling knives. These are really good knives, and for a great price; a steal really! They slice, dice, cut, chop, and fillet. A set of twenty knives, all for the price of two-hundred dollars. Sorry, I got off-track. I must sell enough sets of knives for my measly twenty percent to come close to paying at least the doctor bills for my poor little one.
I start out in the morning and work my way through neighborhood after neighborhood, one door at a time. Some are politely nervous. They want to slam the door in my face out of sheer terror, yet they don’t. They still have enough decency to hear me out before politely turning me down.
Now, there are those that are so fearful, that they buy the knives from me just to keep from getting attacked by FLIPPR hit-men. Oh yeah, they do really exist. It has all gotten that far out of hand. I’m amazed that the “Equality Act” hasn’t been repealed with all the attacks, kidnappings, and even the rare murders that have been going on. As hard as it is to believe, I don’t think any decent, well-mannered penguin ever wanted things to go this far. All we wanted was a chance to truly be part of society. I feel the whole penguin culture has something of value it can add to society as a whole. I mean, who could teach swimming lessons better! We are bullets underwater! Off track again, my apologies.
There are those out there that, in the event they do open the door, it is with the barrel of a gun pointed at me and they are calmly, yet very firmly asking me to get off their property because they want no part in anything FLIPPR has to offer. It’s incredibly hard to argue a differing point with that which is made with a gun.
Alas, I must do my duty, and do what I can in order to make a decent living legitimately as a hard working citizen of this fine country.
* * *
You. Yes, you who have been reading all of this. We have you now, and you can’t get away from us. These stories appear to be simply informing you of our cause, correct? These weakling penguins who are willing to let the human population control and rule over them as oppressively as they do, looking down on us for more than just the fact that we are vertically challenged. You humans think you know everything. You think you know what we want, what is best for us. Well, I am here to tell you that you are wrong. There is a reason FLIPPR exists and it is not just to run around spouting poetry and holding protests like your measly Beatniks you insist on comparing us to. Oh, no. We will bring about real change. We will make you see our worth, and how we deserve, nay, require the same rights you have, if not more.
We are done being held down, pinned beneath your wayward laws and legislations. We will get the revenge for being downtrodden we rightly deserve. Oh yes, and we will do this in our own way. We will slowly take down each and every one of you. You see, if you are reading this, it is already too late. How so, you ask?
Simple. How did you receive this interesting little set of letters? What was that? By mail you say? And what is it that someone needs in order to send you mail? Gasp! An address! That’s right, and once someone has your address, how easily can you be found? Ahh, yes. Now you understand.
You see, this collection was sent to those we suspected knew too much
already about our cause. Those of you who knew more than you should, those of you who have gotten a glimpse of what FLIPPR is all about, our real cause. Not the one thrown around in polite company about trying to steal all your alcohol and women. Nay, the real cause is that of world domination through fear and denial of all things you hold dear.
Wait. Stop laughing at our cause. Did I not just get done telling you that you know too much and we know where you live? You will fear us! Just wait. You’ll see that our threat to stalk your house and destroy all that is precious to you, to gain the upper hand against you and your kind will come to be reality. We already have the assistance of your genetic brothers, the chimpanzees. Oh, that news article was feigned in order to throw you off our trail. We knew you discovered their stockpile. We knew you were onto us. So we let that article leak to the public as a way of dispersing interest in our cause. The chimpanzees have been in on it all along!
You will falter and fall. The Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution will bring you down to the level you deserve to be at. We know where you live. We can and will find you.
You know too much.
Now that penguins have been integrated into society for the intelligent creatures we really are, I was able to gain a job as an accountant. Now that’s the life: surrounded by numbers all day long. Who could ask for anything more? Not me. Well, maybe a cute little penguin to start a family with, but that’s next on my list.
Most people that hear I’m an accountant automatically think I keep the books for FLIPPR. You see most people who know of the existence of the Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, FLIPPR for short, automatically think all penguins have a membership or at least subscribe to their ideals. FLIPPR is really just a bunch of tough guys, err…penguins, that formed a mafia and came up with a long name just so the abbreviation could somewhat resemble the word flipper. Really, they are all just a bunch of bullies. In all my life, I have never seen such a strong stereotype put into place. The second any penguin is seen on the street, there is automatic fear or concern for personal safety.
I get this sort of treatment a lot, working in accounting as I do. Someone comes in to pay their bill, sees me, and automatically they are afraid I might do something to them, or that I am going to steal their money and use it to help fund some FLIPPR excursion or another. Sadly, they never take the time learn about the real me. I am actually really easy to talk to, and am willing to hold a conversation about anything with anyone. You know the small chit-chat that goes along with waiting for the computer to process a check and produce a receipt. Usually, my customers are lost in their own world of fear and the stereotypes of my species to hold any kind of a decent conversation. Not to mention, how many people would believe a penguin, of all beings, would know all the current information on sports? You know, the latest team trades, who the biggest players are, who has the best shot to go all the way.
I had to work hard to get to where I am today. I fought this stereotype that the other penguins created, to get an honest, legitimate job. I was top in all my classes, worked and studied hard, and I always double check my figures to make sure there are no mistakes. Luckily, I came across an employer who saw my track record with numbers, and understood that the quality of an employee’s work was far more meaningful than the stereotype associated with that employee. Stereotypes and prejudices are for close minded people who don’t value the diversity that is out there today anyway.
There once was one person who felt the need to inform my boss that he had a penguin—a PENGUIN!—working for him. She went on and on about how unfaithful we are, about how all we do is drink alcohol and steal peoples’ women right from under their noses. She explained about how she had a penguin steal her purse, smacking her on the ass as he ran off. This lady was convinced that I was a shady figure, stealing the company’s money to finance my outside endeavors she was dead-set I had going on in my off time.
I overheard all of this, and boy did it make me feel like crap! I mean, I try to make sure I present a professional look about myself and go about my job like anyone else in the office would. Normally I am overdressed due to the tuxedo that is just part of my body. I know it’s overboard, but I can’t help it. What I look like isn’t something I can change. I was born this way. I have never made fun of someone either in front of them or behind their back because of how they looked. That’s just plain rude any way you try to dress it up as acceptable.
The day after hearing the woman’s comments, I did not want to go into work. I lay in my bed, pondering the hurtful words she had spoken. Who wouldn’t be depressed when overhearing someone say such rude things about them based only on what they are and what they look like rather than their work quality? I finally did go into work, late. I went straight into my boss’s office to explain why I was late. He took the time to hear me out, and then mentioned that he told her yesterday, after she was done spewing her negativity, that if she had that big of a problem with one of his employees, he wouldn’t be able to do business with her anymore. Now, that is one understanding boss.
* * *
Now, for your six o’clock evening news report.
The “Equality Act” is in full effect. This Act that gained much publicity recently that allows our flightless flippered counterparts lawful equal rights. A penguin managed to work his way up to a managerial position. A lot of concern resonated at this news from the biped other populations as far as how this Act would affect them. High on the list are concerns such as employment ratios, safety, medical coverage, housing and food supplies.
A spokes-penguin tried to dissuade these fears by stating, “There will be no foreseeable changes to the majority of systems that are in place now. All we ask is a decent, fair chance at earning an income and providing for our families. Our desires are the same as any human may have.”
Numerous discussions have occurred, considering how the “Equality Act” opens up the chances of penguins holding service-based jobs, about penguins starting their own medical and insurance practices to help maintain both parties’ employment ratios. It will definitely be interesting to see how this situation pans out. Can humans and penguins really get along in a society together?
* * *
Wash the windows. Empty the garbage, sweep, mop, and vacuum. All while putting on a happy face and pretending I love my job. And don't even get me started on the toilets! You probably can't even imagine how difficult mopping without opposable thumbs can be. I'm always dropping the mop because it is forever slipping out of my flippers. How is a penguin supposed to work like this? On top of that, I have overheard those blasted humans talking about me and laughing at me when they think I'm not around. I am convinced they make bigger messes and have more lights burn out when they know I'm working. As if I didn't have a hard enough time with it all without all the extra hardships. Plus, I'm dressed way too well for this job!
Don’t get me wrong, I tried for something better than this. For the longest time, I dreamed of being a fighter pilot. I spent my childhood acting out dogfights, pretending to fly around in an imaginary plane. Penguins are birds. We have wings. Why is it so wrong that one would have dreams of flying like all the other birds, or better? If you can’t adapt, improvise, right? Well, anyway, I went to take the flight test, finally after years of study and dreaming and doing all I could to get into the flight program, and what did I find? That’s right, controls that were made for humans, and no alterations for penguins.
That was okay, just a minor setback that could be fixed in time, but when I first walked into that classroom on the very first day, the looks I got were nearly unbearable! They made me feel like such an outsider I didn’t think any of those people had heard about the Equality Act, even as well publicized as it was. Either that or they just didn’t care about it. I was always an outsider, so I decided to choose my seat wisely and ignore the looks until I could prove myself smart enough to be in that program. Unfortunately, the teacher and department head weren’t any better. I mean, my name is generic enough that it could word for either human or penguin. Once they discovered I was the later rather than the former as they had previously thought, I was in for it! They never gave me a chance and threw every hardship they could get away with my way. The discrimination was almost palpable there was so much, not to mention the hostility. I guess “fighter pilot penguin” had the type of ring to it that one of those FLIPPR guys would have. I had no ill intentions towards humans in any form. All I wanted to do was fly as any winged bird should.
Maybe those FLIPPR guys are right. Penguins aren't treated right regardless of the "Equality Act" that was passed. Yeah, we can hold all the same jobs. Yeah, we can be on the same teams, and do everything they can. And yeah, I guess it's better now than it was before the Act. Then, we were on the streets, barely able to make it, not knowing where we were going to sleep one night to the next, not knowing what our next meal would be, let alone when. Oh, and don't get me started on the nights! Extremely cold and damp, noise so loud that you would think it was daytime there was so much going on! If your spot was discovered by any humans, they would not only make you stay there, but they would call Animal Control! Can you believe it?! I doubt it could get any more degrading than that. Especially since all we were trying to do was eke out a living much the same as any of them. It was like all we were to them was a bunch of cute, cuddly little animals with no brains or heart or aspirations for ourselves or our society.
Well, we'll show them! We'll prove to them that we are more intelligent than they think and that we will fight for the respect we deserve!
* * *
We interrupt this program for an urgent news brief.
Recent suspicions hold that chimpanzees have joined the Penguin Revolution. Chimps, in their cunning ability to woo humans with tricks then steal objects from them have stockpiled weapons for years. A stash of these weapons was uncovered in Sweden.
A spokes-penguin for the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, more commonly known as FLIPPR, stated, "Penguins have no need to revolt against humans, and especially have no need of any aid by the genetic relatives of humans. All FLIPPR wants is to promote equality for those of us that are vertically challenged and are forced to be clothed in formal attire."
In response to this claim, a Swedish chimpanzee retorted, "OO OO, EE EE." Experts translated this to mean, "We were paid a profit to help the penguins in their revolution against the humans. We have no ill feelings or loyalties to either. The penguins merely offered more shiny objects as payment. We are now fully aware of and apologize for the confusion that ensued due to our choice in whom to aid."
Concern resounds with this situation as the penguins have been known to deploy "cute and cuddly" operations world-wide. We do not know at this time which side of the story to believe so we are asking people to be cautious and avoid all things cute and/or cuddly, just to be safe. It would also be wise to store food, and keep small children indoors. We ask that those with the knowledge of any FLIPPR safe-houses contact the local authorities with the information immediately.
We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming.
* * *
Why do people give us the stereotype of being mercenaries? I mean, yeah, some of us are the out-there, in-your-face military type, but honestly, not all of us are. Some just want to live a peaceful life, not be involved in taking over the world, or exacting revenge for mistreatments on anyone. Some of us have other talents, thank you very much.
I, for one, can tap dance. No, not in order to distract people while my compatriots take their money, or inflict some kind of hypnosis on them. No, sir! I am a legitimate tap dancing penguin. The nice thing is I don't have to worry about dressing up, or dry cleaning a tux. Mine is fully attached to me, causing my clothing bill to be very minimal. Of course, I have to buy tap shoes. You know, when those have to be custom made, they can be expensive! I mean, tap shoes aren't exactly cheap to begin with, but regular ones just don't fit flippers. But, that doesn't mean I go around getting the money for them illegally.
I started out young, tapping in just my flippers on the street corner with my hat on the ground looking for handouts. Those don't come easy, people! Especially when you are a penguin and people think you are going to hurt them somehow, or turn them into zombies or what have you. Anyway, I was standing on street corners tapping away even in the rain! I was cold, hungry, sleeping in a cardboard box. More than once a passing truck or bus sprayed water over me from a puddle in the street. Did they stop to help me out? Of course not, but I was merely a penguin and the Equality Act was still being debated. People looked at me warily thinking I was going to steal something, but no, I never stooped to that level. I merely window shopped until I could afford to buy whatever I needed. I hung out around the burning barrels at night hoping for a little bit of hobo stew. Man, did that stuff wreak havoc on my body! Hardly any of the time was there any fish in those stews, but it was something to ease the pain in my stomach. Slowly, more and more people saw what I was doing, and saw my talent. Very slowly I rose to tap on Broadway. So slowly, in fact, that it seemed at times as if I were moving backwards, but I still made it!
That's like one of my good friends from South America. She, like me, is on the small side, but you know, that doesn't get her down. I mean, it's better than being an Emperor penguin. Those guys have some issues. They think that they already rule the world just because the word Emperor is in their name. Talk about a complex!
Anyway, back to my friend. She writes. Mostly news articles, giving the people a first-hand view of what is happening on the penguin front so they can be informed. She's the one that first got people to see through that "cute and cuddly" front. Now, that took courage. She had all the other penguins up in arms against her, had hits out on her from the penguin mafia, death threats, and attempts on her life. She had to go into hiding for a while there and only came out after making a deal with the Penguin Mafia Overlord saying that she wouldn't infiltrate their ranks and report their tactics to the common man again, that if the people wanted to resist the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, that they would have to figure it out on their own.
Now, FLIPPR, as they are more commonly known, in my opinion is a load of crock. What do we need liberated from? And who exactly is the Internal Penguin Population? Half of their title I am convinced is there for the sole purpose of having an acronym that sounds like flipper. How cruel to our kind on their part? I mean, it's not like we have those awesome thumbs or anything, or even fingers for that matter! Do you know how hard it is to grab a cup of hot chocolate with a flipper!
Wait. Wait... Oh no! I hear them coming! First they silence my friend for her comments, and now they are coming after me! I can hear them on the steps. If anyone reads this, please....PLEASE remember that not all the penguins are ba. . .
* * *
This just in!
Penguin chicks have been found naked all over the Atlantic. The cause of this atrocity is as of yet unknown. However, experts have taken to calling it “feather-loss disorder.” We all know that humans are not always adept at aiding penguins in their problems or, as we can plainly see, naming them decently. Penguin scientists have monitored the situation and came to the conclusion that there is some sort of poisoning going on. They have yet to conclude the cause of this poisoning, but want to assure the public that they are working hard to devise a solution to this situation as quickly as they can.
More to come as this story unfolds.
* * *
Really? That’s the best name they could come up with? Our chicks are losing their feathers, probably due to some chemical created by either the humans or FLIPPR in an attempt to breed hatred against our pale, fleshy counterparts. And they called it something as absurd as “feather-loss disorder”? We are all brothers here. The real enemy is FLIPPR and their cause to bring down the humans giving the rest of us penguins a bad reputation while they are at it.
But what have the humans done to us? They passed the “Equality Act” that allowed for penguins to function in society as the intelligent individuals we are. They cut back on their fish consumption for no reason other than to give us the food supply we need. And the list doesn’t end there. So many things have humans done to help us out, and yet, FLIPPR insists on running our names down. They insist on the need of a mafia to revolt against the humans for more rights. They don’t understand that change never happens overnight, and with them wreaking havoc the way they do, it’s no wonder humans maintain their distrust and prejudices against us.
I mean, I could never have become the news reporter I am today without that Act the humans passed. That’s right. I write stories and then share them with the public. And here all along, you thought “Penelope Penguin” was just a pen-name for some Homo Sapien with a cruel sense of humor. No one would believe that a penguin could report anything of worth. Maybe a few articles on fish migration patterns, or maybe one or two on Global Warming and how that affects the ice in Antarctica.
I think I impressed them all. When I was just starting out, I was just a measly little rock-hopper penguin. I was shy, naive, and barely had enough money to survive. The Equality Act came along, and the few friends I had encouraged me to start writing news articles. I always had a way with words, but technology and my lack of self confidence were against me. I needed a special program that would type spoken words just to be able to get an article out there. Luckily, I found one that didn’t cost too much. After that, the writing itself was easy and all I had to do was find stories that the public would be interested in. I started out looking for stories that would appeal to just penguins, but quickly realized that the human population might be interested in some of the stuff I was discovering, for example, the story of the Front of the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution. I mean, how would their cause not matter to penguins and humans alike?
However, that story was sadly before it’s time. I made that report when they weren’t much more than just a bunch of silly rebelliously hearted chicks running around talking about ‘change’ and ‘inequality,’ ‘fighting against the oppressive government’ and other topics very similar to those seen in human’s history as well. I mean, what were the topics in the era of The Beatniks? Change. Inequality. Fighting against the oppressive government. The cause was the same, but somewhere along the lines, it spiraled out of control.
Slowly, the threats became more and more serious. Larger and larger on the scale until it would be a mistake to take their threats with a scoff, mild disdain, an upturned nose and a flick of the wrist brushing it aside. It went from mild mistreatment, to stealing people’s alcohol and women. After that, there were a few bomb threat rumors, but nothing really materialized from them. They were enough to gain the general public’s attention.
Where will it go from there? Well, my friends, there is no real way to tell for sure.
* * *
Breaking News Flash!
Hard working penguins have come up missing. There seems to be a connection between those profiled and gave their opinions on daily life for regular penguins in a recent set of blogs discovered and read by the masses. These blogs have increased in publicity as the attacks on humans, taken for granted before, have increased in number and severity.
Not many Homo Sapiens have noticed said losses due to the inadvertent segregation that has occurred after the passing of the Equality Act. Some Penguins see this Act as a smoke and mirrors effect in order for Humans to feel as though they are doing the right thing without actually having to do anything.
However, the penguin workforce has suffered serious losses in fields such as accounting, news reporting, the Arts, as well as others. If you are a penguin, or concerned about our flightless friends, please pass the word along. One loss is one too many.
Now back to the regular programming.
* * *
Nowadays, it is getting really difficult to be a door-to-door salesman. I mean, sure, I bet the vacuum cleaner sales-penguins have no trouble, but those of us selling state-of-the-art knife sets? Man, the looks people give you are incredible! I don’t think it could be worse if I were to actually have a stamp on my forehead that read “Official Member of FLIPPR.” Not that I am. Not by a long shot. I’m just trying to support my family, and make sure all the bills are paid. With four chicks at home, one of which has come down with that blasted “feather-loss disorder”. It’s not a very pretty sight to see one of your own young chicks waking up with the bed covered in his own feathers. I mean, really. It’s gruesome and sad, indeed it is.
But, alas, I must make a living, so here I am selling knives. These are really good knives, and for a great price; a steal really! They slice, dice, cut, chop, and fillet. A set of twenty knives, all for the price of two-hundred dollars. Sorry, I got off-track. I must sell enough sets of knives for my measly twenty percent to come close to paying at least the doctor bills for my poor little one.
I start out in the morning and work my way through neighborhood after neighborhood, one door at a time. Some are politely nervous. They want to slam the door in my face out of sheer terror, yet they don’t. They still have enough decency to hear me out before politely turning me down.
Now, there are those that are so fearful, that they buy the knives from me just to keep from getting attacked by FLIPPR hit-men. Oh yeah, they do really exist. It has all gotten that far out of hand. I’m amazed that the “Equality Act” hasn’t been repealed with all the attacks, kidnappings, and even the rare murders that have been going on. As hard as it is to believe, I don’t think any decent, well-mannered penguin ever wanted things to go this far. All we wanted was a chance to truly be part of society. I feel the whole penguin culture has something of value it can add to society as a whole. I mean, who could teach swimming lessons better! We are bullets underwater! Off track again, my apologies.
There are those out there that, in the event they do open the door, it is with the barrel of a gun pointed at me and they are calmly, yet very firmly asking me to get off their property because they want no part in anything FLIPPR has to offer. It’s incredibly hard to argue a differing point with that which is made with a gun.
Alas, I must do my duty, and do what I can in order to make a decent living legitimately as a hard working citizen of this fine country.
* * *
You. Yes, you who have been reading all of this. We have you now, and you can’t get away from us. These stories appear to be simply informing you of our cause, correct? These weakling penguins who are willing to let the human population control and rule over them as oppressively as they do, looking down on us for more than just the fact that we are vertically challenged. You humans think you know everything. You think you know what we want, what is best for us. Well, I am here to tell you that you are wrong. There is a reason FLIPPR exists and it is not just to run around spouting poetry and holding protests like your measly Beatniks you insist on comparing us to. Oh, no. We will bring about real change. We will make you see our worth, and how we deserve, nay, require the same rights you have, if not more.
We are done being held down, pinned beneath your wayward laws and legislations. We will get the revenge for being downtrodden we rightly deserve. Oh yes, and we will do this in our own way. We will slowly take down each and every one of you. You see, if you are reading this, it is already too late. How so, you ask?
Simple. How did you receive this interesting little set of letters? What was that? By mail you say? And what is it that someone needs in order to send you mail? Gasp! An address! That’s right, and once someone has your address, how easily can you be found? Ahh, yes. Now you understand.
You see, this collection was sent to those we suspected knew too much
already about our cause. Those of you who knew more than you should, those of you who have gotten a glimpse of what FLIPPR is all about, our real cause. Not the one thrown around in polite company about trying to steal all your alcohol and women. Nay, the real cause is that of world domination through fear and denial of all things you hold dear.
Wait. Stop laughing at our cause. Did I not just get done telling you that you know too much and we know where you live? You will fear us! Just wait. You’ll see that our threat to stalk your house and destroy all that is precious to you, to gain the upper hand against you and your kind will come to be reality. We already have the assistance of your genetic brothers, the chimpanzees. Oh, that news article was feigned in order to throw you off our trail. We knew you discovered their stockpile. We knew you were onto us. So we let that article leak to the public as a way of dispersing interest in our cause. The chimpanzees have been in on it all along!
You will falter and fall. The Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution will bring you down to the level you deserve to be at. We know where you live. We can and will find you.
You know too much.
01 May 2011
Through the Mind of a Penguin Part 4
Wash the windows; empty the garbage, sweep, mop, vacuum. All while putting on a happy face and pretending I love my job. And don't even get me started on the toilets! You probably can't even imagine how difficult mopping without opposable thumbs can be. I'm always dropping the mop because it is forever slipping out of my hands. How is a penguin supposed to work like this? On top of that, I have overheard those blasted humans talking about me and laughing at me when they think I'm not around. I am convinced they make bigger messes and have more lights burn out when they know I'm working. As if I didn't have a hard enough time with it all without all the extra hardships. Plus, I'm dressed way too well for this job!
Maybe those FLIPPR guys are right. Penguins aren't treated right regardless of the "Equality Act" that was passed. Yeah, we can hold all the same jobs. Yeah, we can be on the same teams, and do everything they can. And yeah, I guess it's better now than it was before the Act. Then, we were on the streets, barely able to make it by, no knowing where we were going to sleep one night to the next, not knowing what our next meal would be, let alone when. Oh, and don't get me started on the nights! Extremely cold, and damp, noise so loud that you would think it was daytime there was so much going on! If your spot was discovered by any humans, they would not only make you stay there, but they would call Animal Control! Can you believe it?! I doubt it could get any more degrading than that. Especially since all we were trying to do was trying to eke out a living much the same as any of them. It was like all we were to them was a bunch of cute, cuddly little animals with no brains or heart or aspirations for ourselves or our society.
Well, we'll show them! We'll prove to them that we are more intelligent than they think and that we will fight for the respect we deserve!
Maybe those FLIPPR guys are right. Penguins aren't treated right regardless of the "Equality Act" that was passed. Yeah, we can hold all the same jobs. Yeah, we can be on the same teams, and do everything they can. And yeah, I guess it's better now than it was before the Act. Then, we were on the streets, barely able to make it by, no knowing where we were going to sleep one night to the next, not knowing what our next meal would be, let alone when. Oh, and don't get me started on the nights! Extremely cold, and damp, noise so loud that you would think it was daytime there was so much going on! If your spot was discovered by any humans, they would not only make you stay there, but they would call Animal Control! Can you believe it?! I doubt it could get any more degrading than that. Especially since all we were trying to do was trying to eke out a living much the same as any of them. It was like all we were to them was a bunch of cute, cuddly little animals with no brains or heart or aspirations for ourselves or our society.
Well, we'll show them! We'll prove to them that we are more intelligent than they think and that we will fight for the respect we deserve!
Through the MInd of a Penguin Part 3
We interrupt this program for an urgent news brief.
Chimpanzees have been recently discovered to have joined the Penguin Revolution. Chimps, in their cunning ability to woo humans with tricks then steal objects from them have been stockpiling weapons for years. A stash of these weapons was found in Sweden. A spokes-penguin for the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population, FLIPPR for short, was quoted saying, "Penguins have no need to revolt against humans, and especially have no need of aid by the genetic ancestors of humans. All FLIPPR wants to promote is equality for those of us that are vertically challenged and are forced to be clothed in formal attire."
In response to this claim, a Swedish chimpanzee was quoted saying, "OO OO, EE EE." Experts have translated this to mean, "We were paid a profit to help the penguins in their revolution against the humans. We have no ill feelings or loyalties to either. The penguins merely offered more shiny objects as payment."
This is definitely a concern as the penguins have been known to deploy "cute and cuddly" operations world-wide. We do not know at this time which side of the story to believe so we are asking people to be cautious and avoid all things cute and/or cuddly, just to be safe. It also would help to store food, and keep small children indoors. We are asking that those with the knowledge of a FLIPPR safe-house to contact the local authorities with the information immediately.
We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming.
Chimpanzees have been recently discovered to have joined the Penguin Revolution. Chimps, in their cunning ability to woo humans with tricks then steal objects from them have been stockpiling weapons for years. A stash of these weapons was found in Sweden. A spokes-penguin for the Front for Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population, FLIPPR for short, was quoted saying, "Penguins have no need to revolt against humans, and especially have no need of aid by the genetic ancestors of humans. All FLIPPR wants to promote is equality for those of us that are vertically challenged and are forced to be clothed in formal attire."
In response to this claim, a Swedish chimpanzee was quoted saying, "OO OO, EE EE." Experts have translated this to mean, "We were paid a profit to help the penguins in their revolution against the humans. We have no ill feelings or loyalties to either. The penguins merely offered more shiny objects as payment."
This is definitely a concern as the penguins have been known to deploy "cute and cuddly" operations world-wide. We do not know at this time which side of the story to believe so we are asking people to be cautious and avoid all things cute and/or cuddly, just to be safe. It also would help to store food, and keep small children indoors. We are asking that those with the knowledge of a FLIPPR safe-house to contact the local authorities with the information immediately.
We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming.
Through the Mind of a Penguin Part 2
Whoever said penguins couldn’t count? I mean, opposable thumbs or even fingers aren’t needed to figure math. I’ve always had a brain for mathematics. I could figure a problem faster than most in my class, and even when I reached the upper levels like Algebra and Trigonometry, I still didn’t have much difficulty figuring out the problems. I did need a special calculator though, small buttons and flippers don’t exactly get along, you know.
Now that penguins have been integrated into society for the intelligent creatures we really are, I was able to gain a job as an accountant. Now that’s the life: surrounded by numbers all day long. Who could ask for better? Not me. Most people that hear I’m an accountant and automatically think I keep the books for FLIPPR. You see most people who know of the existence of the Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, FLIPPR for short, think that all penguins are part of it. FLIPPR is really just a bunch of tough guys that formed a penguin mafia and came up with a long name just so the abbreviation could somewhat resemble the word flipper. Really, all they are is a bunch of bullies. In all my life, I have never seen such a strong stereotype put into place. The second any penguin is seen on the street, there is automatic fear or concern for personal safety.
I see this a lot, working in accounting as I do. Someone comes in to pay their bill, sees me, and automatically they are afraid I might do something to them, or that I am going to steal their money and use it for FLIPPR funding. Sadly, they never take the time learn about the real me. I am actually really easy to talk to, and am willing to hold a conversation about anything with anyone. You know the small chit-chat that goes along with waiting for the computer to process a check and produce a receipt. Usually, my customers are lost in their own world of fear and stereotypes of species to hold any kind of a decent conversation.
I had to work hard to get to where I am today. I fought this stereotype that the other penguins created the existence of to get an honest, legitimate job. I was top in all my classes, worked and studied hard, and I always double check my figures to make sure there are no mistakes. Luckily, I came across an employer who saw my track record with numbers, and understood that the quality of an employee’s work was far more meaningful than the stereotype associated with that employee.
There was one person who felt the need to inform my boss that he had a penguin—a PENGUIN!—working for him. She went on and on about how unfaithful we are, about how all we do is drink alcohol and steal peoples’ women right from under their noses. She explained about how she had a penguin steal her purse, smacking her on the ass as he ran off. She was convinced that I was a shady figure, stealing the company’s money to finance my outside endeavors she was dead-set I had going on in my off time.
I overheard all of this, and boy did it make me feel like crap! I mean, I try to make sure I present a professional look about myself and go about my job like anyone else in the office would. Normally I am overdressed due to the tuxedo that is just part of my body. I know it’s overboard, but I can’t help it. What I look like isn’t something I can change. I was born this way. I have never made fun of someone either in front of them or behind their back because of how they looked. That’s just plain rude any way you try to dress it up as acceptable.
The day after hearing the woman’s comments, I did not want to go into work. I laid in my bed, pondering the hurtful words she had spoken. Who wouldn’t be depressed when they overhear someone saying such rude things about them that aren’t based at all on work quality, but what they are, and what they look like? I finally did go into work, late. I went straight into my boss’s office to explain why I was late. He took the time to hear me out, and then mentioned that he told her yesterday, after she was done spewing her negativity, that if she had that big of a problem with one of his employees, that he wouldn’t be able to do business with her anymore. Now, that is one understanding boss.
Now that penguins have been integrated into society for the intelligent creatures we really are, I was able to gain a job as an accountant. Now that’s the life: surrounded by numbers all day long. Who could ask for better? Not me. Most people that hear I’m an accountant and automatically think I keep the books for FLIPPR. You see most people who know of the existence of the Front for the Liberation of the Internal Penguin Population Revolution, FLIPPR for short, think that all penguins are part of it. FLIPPR is really just a bunch of tough guys that formed a penguin mafia and came up with a long name just so the abbreviation could somewhat resemble the word flipper. Really, all they are is a bunch of bullies. In all my life, I have never seen such a strong stereotype put into place. The second any penguin is seen on the street, there is automatic fear or concern for personal safety.
I see this a lot, working in accounting as I do. Someone comes in to pay their bill, sees me, and automatically they are afraid I might do something to them, or that I am going to steal their money and use it for FLIPPR funding. Sadly, they never take the time learn about the real me. I am actually really easy to talk to, and am willing to hold a conversation about anything with anyone. You know the small chit-chat that goes along with waiting for the computer to process a check and produce a receipt. Usually, my customers are lost in their own world of fear and stereotypes of species to hold any kind of a decent conversation.
I had to work hard to get to where I am today. I fought this stereotype that the other penguins created the existence of to get an honest, legitimate job. I was top in all my classes, worked and studied hard, and I always double check my figures to make sure there are no mistakes. Luckily, I came across an employer who saw my track record with numbers, and understood that the quality of an employee’s work was far more meaningful than the stereotype associated with that employee.
There was one person who felt the need to inform my boss that he had a penguin—a PENGUIN!—working for him. She went on and on about how unfaithful we are, about how all we do is drink alcohol and steal peoples’ women right from under their noses. She explained about how she had a penguin steal her purse, smacking her on the ass as he ran off. She was convinced that I was a shady figure, stealing the company’s money to finance my outside endeavors she was dead-set I had going on in my off time.
I overheard all of this, and boy did it make me feel like crap! I mean, I try to make sure I present a professional look about myself and go about my job like anyone else in the office would. Normally I am overdressed due to the tuxedo that is just part of my body. I know it’s overboard, but I can’t help it. What I look like isn’t something I can change. I was born this way. I have never made fun of someone either in front of them or behind their back because of how they looked. That’s just plain rude any way you try to dress it up as acceptable.
The day after hearing the woman’s comments, I did not want to go into work. I laid in my bed, pondering the hurtful words she had spoken. Who wouldn’t be depressed when they overhear someone saying such rude things about them that aren’t based at all on work quality, but what they are, and what they look like? I finally did go into work, late. I went straight into my boss’s office to explain why I was late. He took the time to hear me out, and then mentioned that he told her yesterday, after she was done spewing her negativity, that if she had that big of a problem with one of his employees, that he wouldn’t be able to do business with her anymore. Now, that is one understanding boss.
06 January 2010
Hooah
In the US Army, there is the term "Hooah". Now, no one can ever give it a straight definition because it has numerous meanings and is used in numerous situations. It is pronounced, not "Hoo-ah" but rather very similar to the sound one makes when getting punched in the gut. All branches of the US Military have their own word, but no one can seem to place the Air Forces, at least not that I have found. The Army has "Hooah", The Marines have "Oorah", and the Navy has "Hooyah".
I am unsure of the history of this word, why it exists, or where it came from, and even a good translation is hard to come by. It is used in too many ways, for too many responses, in all kinds of situations, yet somehow the meaning is never misunderstood. A Sergeant gives orders, then says, "Hooah?" He is then answered by the Soldiers he just gave the orders to with a "Hooah!" Some other examples are "Nice day outside, hooah?" or "Man! That training was intense!" with the response being "Hooah." Or maybe "Who wants to clean the latrines?" with the response of "hooah!" while the soldiers are shaking their heads. I have even seen two people holding whole conversations with not much more than this one word.
This word, and i use that term very lightly as it is really no more than a grunt, answers all questions, relays many intentions, orders, emotions, or opinions. It seems as though the fluency of "Hooah" is directly related to the privilege of wearing the uniform. Military spouses try, and eventually catch on to some of the uses of the word, but they can always be spotted because for whatever reason, the powers of the term do not allow for them to say or use it correctly. Essentially, "Hooah" is a language in and of itself reserved for those who have made it through Basic Training. Few people truly understand it, and far less can grasp the comraderie that comes with being able to use it properly.
I am unsure of the history of this word, why it exists, or where it came from, and even a good translation is hard to come by. It is used in too many ways, for too many responses, in all kinds of situations, yet somehow the meaning is never misunderstood. A Sergeant gives orders, then says, "Hooah?" He is then answered by the Soldiers he just gave the orders to with a "Hooah!" Some other examples are "Nice day outside, hooah?" or "Man! That training was intense!" with the response being "Hooah." Or maybe "Who wants to clean the latrines?" with the response of "hooah!" while the soldiers are shaking their heads. I have even seen two people holding whole conversations with not much more than this one word.
This word, and i use that term very lightly as it is really no more than a grunt, answers all questions, relays many intentions, orders, emotions, or opinions. It seems as though the fluency of "Hooah" is directly related to the privilege of wearing the uniform. Military spouses try, and eventually catch on to some of the uses of the word, but they can always be spotted because for whatever reason, the powers of the term do not allow for them to say or use it correctly. Essentially, "Hooah" is a language in and of itself reserved for those who have made it through Basic Training. Few people truly understand it, and far less can grasp the comraderie that comes with being able to use it properly.
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