Better Than Sliced Bread
The best human invention and a slice of history.
Better Than Sliced Bread
Humans have created some cool things. Space shuttles, the Internet, sliced bread. But none of these stacks up against the transparent tornado bucket they made for vacuums. That thing is fucking amazing.
That invention has single-handedly crippled Big Vacuum Bag - once a controlling entity in the housekeeping industry. It’s inspired a whole new generation of carpet cleaners to clean. It’s saved marriages and rescued rugs and lets us know when its full. Dirty carpets are now a thing of the past. It’s so easy. No fuss, no clogs. Just click-snap the plastic bucket and say fuck you to guess work! That plastic bucket is probably the greatest human achievement in my lifetime, and I was alive for 9-11.
What’s better than that bucket? Some fucking app? Like Slack or something? Oooh! Now I can be commanded and activated at will by every form of media available, including memes. Thank you, Slack, for eliminating the excuse “Sorry, I was busy after work.”
Come on, you gonna name a medicine or something?
The plastic bucket is so much better than anything we’ve ever done, that it should replace sliced bread as the paradigm of comparison. “The best thing since vacuum buckets.” All we gotta do is start saying it as if we always have and other people will do the same. That’s how shit works. That’s it. Nobody needs to give us permission. Let’s do it. It’s a great idea. It may be the best idea since plastic vacuum buckets.
Wolf
The boy who cried wolf is not an allegory. It’s an historical event, and the story lives on,
same as Julius Caesar or Jesse James. At some point, somewhere, some lazy Shepard’s kid lied to get out of work. And he got fired. By Mother Nature. She wiped that twat off her roles. If he’s too dumb to watch sheep, She don’t need him.
That kid probably begged for that task too. Something like, “I’m sick of milking the cows. So boring. Ugh. Up early. Then it’s shoveling shit. Tommy just sits under the tree all day watching sheep eat. He’s always smiling after work. And he gets the same food I do. This isn’t fair!” So he begged and whined until his dad caved.
Then he started the job and hated it. Ain’t that the way it always goes? He started getting smart instead of just doing his fucking job. He mumbles, “Ugh! It’s been like 2 hours! Legally, I’m entitled to a break.” Then it’s, “Wolf! Wolf! WOOOOOOLLLLLFFFF!!”
And his Dad, charges up the hill to find out that his son ain’t cut out to watch sheep. He might not be cut out for anything. He’s definitely his mother’s boy. But he doesn’t know what to do. No dad does. So he did what his dad before him dad, he gets big and red and yells at the boy, “Get back to the sheep, or else!” and huffs off. And the kid stomps back up the hill.
Later he sees his brother counting woolen textiles and jotting notes down in clay. “I could do that. Fucking dick. He always gets the easy work.” Just then, a customer rounds the corner with a big smile. Tommy and the customer shake hands and laugh. “Dad made him account executive?? I wanted that job!” he says. “Stupid sheep.” Then he kicks a sheep.
The jealousy builds in him like a cyst as he watches Tommy. Always, he’s watching Tommy. What makes Tommy so great? He’s just a kiss ass, he thinks. But when he sees the customer and Tommy banging leather wine pouches together and laughing, the cyst finally goes pop and he yells, “WOLF!!! WOLF!!! WOLF!!!”
They all charge up the hill again to only the boy. The customer is there with a pitchfork, winded, scanning the hill, ready to skewer something. Tommy has that look on his face he gets anytime the boy fucks up - a shit eating smirk with a cocked eyebrow a la “Really??” And dad has steam coming from his ears. Like, fuck man, know your place. You don’t pull this shit in front of customers. And he knew it, too.
“Where’s the wolf?” the dad says.
“I just— It’s not fair that Tommy gets to—“ but he trails off as he’s distracted by Tommy who is nodding slowly with wide eyes like you do when a child tells you about their dreams. “Come on,” Tommy says. “He probably saw a fox. It’s his first day.” He puts his arm around the customer and guides him away. It was the perfect thing to say as it both smoothed things over with the client and emasculated his brother.
Dad stays behind “I swear to God, son. Do NOT fuck this up.”
“But but but—-“
“But-but-but-but-but” (sing song) Dad mocks, interrupting, wiping fake tears, then “Just watch the sheep.” And they stomp back to their respective places away from one another.
“How the fuck did Tommy go from sheep watch to AE? This is the worst fucking job. I’d kill myself.”
What Tommy didn’t tell him is that he had those thoughts too, until he discovered fucking the sheep. That’s why he was always happy. But that’s a whole different parable.
Meanwhile, back at the pasture—
He’s busy updating his resume when he hears the bleating of a frightened sheep.
“Oh shit.” He sees the wolf.
“Wolf!! Wolf!! WOLFFFFF!!”
But nobody comes. And that is offensive! “I need help and they don’t even care—- WOLF!!!”
Nothing.
“Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!” he counts them off, 2, 3 ,4 as the next three wolves burst from the tree line and make a beeline for the flock. He didn’t see the fifth wolf. That was the one who snapped her collarbone and drug her towards the forest to swallow her up, too in shock to scream.
The wolves slept fat and happy that night.
The moral is supposed to be don’t lie. But I also feel like it exposes the true costs of nepotism.
There’s also the lesson about if your job sucks, find something there to fuck to help pass the time until something better comes along. Anyways, it’s always smart to learn from history.