The holidays -- that neutrally named period leading up to the solemnity of the birth of Our Lord during which it is a requirement of consumer culture that we all rush about terribly fast seeking the best deals on the planet on items destined for others and ourselves -- are approaching, and as my duties this year involve running the "holiday core team" tasked with making sure that all the consumer electronics sales for Nameless Large Corporate Employer go off well from Nov. 26th through Jan 2nd, things have been rather franetic at work of late.
In all this I am reminded of a scene in a movie -- some sort of slacker comedy I saw years ago whose title escapes me -- in which a character brings himself to tears going on a rant about the poor, innocent, starving coyote who is endlessly tortured by a cruel, sadistic road runner.
Perhaps one of our readers who has retained more pop culture cred than I will recall what movie I'm thinking of. Regardless, I think I have been won over. The young ones have been watching the Looney Toons Golden Collection Vol. 3 via netflix, and having watched the Road Runner repeatedly break laws of reality which only adhere in the world of the cartoon when they serve to injure the coyote, and listening to his insufferable "Beep, beep", I think I'm ready to say: The Road Runner is a punk.
More to the point, he is a force of chaos. I'm in Wile E's camp. The bird needs to be lunch. He's exactly the sort of creature who would suddenly decide to revise all his pricing after it's already been sent to the site team for execution.
A Grief Observed
3 hours ago