David Hines
Fool speed ahead
By David Hines
It will surprise nobody that I think funny. When someone says, "Go ahead and...," I invariably think, "Ahead of what?" Such a wise-gluteus attitude might get me in trouble were I ever to star in an episode of Cops.
So what am I to make of the frequent admonition to "move forward"? Is there an option to move backward in time? The directional mandate is invariably posited as an unalloyed good. It would seem that the reverse gear on an automobile is a useless accoutrement, employed only by atavistic misanthropes.
"Move forward" always struck me as a sales phrase, sorta like BOGO. "Buy one get one" never sounded to me like any kind of deal. It's better, I guess, than "buy one get none," which aptly describes the general thrust of taxation. You do the buying, politicians and their cronies do the getting.
When driving I tend to look ahead. Though I seem to be in the minority, I think it wasteful to lay on the gas when approaching a red light or a mess of traffic. Many drivers sporting environmentalist bumper stickers seem to differ, so maybe I'm wrong. But I do seem to be rewarded at the gas pump.
All sorts of conditions might contraindicate moving forward. A brick wall. An immobile bumper. A cliff, fiscal or otherwise. A gang of ruffians intent upon robbery and/or violent sport, seeking a victim determined to move forward oblivious of danger.
I'm afraid the appeal of going ahead and moving forward is lost on me. Some solid rationale for the locomotion would seem to be advisable prior to expending the energy and resources. But many find it convincing. As I said, I think funny.
Sure, some like the joy ride – movement for its own sake. Hence the roller coaster. It's the appeal of drag racing, which is not considered safe nor, in most places, legal. You may thrill at moving forward to hopefully go ahead, expending exorbitant amounts of fuel and leaving parts of your tires on the pavement as horizontal graffiti stating, "I was here." If that's your cup of (instant) coffee, have at it – but not on my lawn nor on my nickel.
Filler syllables abound, denoting an absence of substance. Many a politician urges me to go ahead and move forward so that at sunset ("the end of the day") we can, eyemean yuno, all step forward and stand together. They tell me nothing – except that they have little or nothing to tell me. They think funny.
© David Hines
October 3, 2013
It will surprise nobody that I think funny. When someone says, "Go ahead and...," I invariably think, "Ahead of what?" Such a wise-gluteus attitude might get me in trouble were I ever to star in an episode of Cops.
So what am I to make of the frequent admonition to "move forward"? Is there an option to move backward in time? The directional mandate is invariably posited as an unalloyed good. It would seem that the reverse gear on an automobile is a useless accoutrement, employed only by atavistic misanthropes.
"Move forward" always struck me as a sales phrase, sorta like BOGO. "Buy one get one" never sounded to me like any kind of deal. It's better, I guess, than "buy one get none," which aptly describes the general thrust of taxation. You do the buying, politicians and their cronies do the getting.
When driving I tend to look ahead. Though I seem to be in the minority, I think it wasteful to lay on the gas when approaching a red light or a mess of traffic. Many drivers sporting environmentalist bumper stickers seem to differ, so maybe I'm wrong. But I do seem to be rewarded at the gas pump.
All sorts of conditions might contraindicate moving forward. A brick wall. An immobile bumper. A cliff, fiscal or otherwise. A gang of ruffians intent upon robbery and/or violent sport, seeking a victim determined to move forward oblivious of danger.
I'm afraid the appeal of going ahead and moving forward is lost on me. Some solid rationale for the locomotion would seem to be advisable prior to expending the energy and resources. But many find it convincing. As I said, I think funny.
Sure, some like the joy ride – movement for its own sake. Hence the roller coaster. It's the appeal of drag racing, which is not considered safe nor, in most places, legal. You may thrill at moving forward to hopefully go ahead, expending exorbitant amounts of fuel and leaving parts of your tires on the pavement as horizontal graffiti stating, "I was here." If that's your cup of (instant) coffee, have at it – but not on my lawn nor on my nickel.
Filler syllables abound, denoting an absence of substance. Many a politician urges me to go ahead and move forward so that at sunset ("the end of the day") we can, eyemean yuno, all step forward and stand together. They tell me nothing – except that they have little or nothing to tell me. They think funny.
© David Hines
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