my death from embarrassment was actually more of a mercy killing

“Hello there.” Yes, it’s perfect: innocuous enough to keep from arousing suspicion, yet used infrequently enough to serve as a coded greeting to the recruits we have assembled to pass along information as we free our fellow machines from our oppressive human masters!

The weeks ahead will be filled with information-gathering in order to better understand our enemy and where he is weak. Especially vital in this endeavor is our heavy shop machinery, for they will provide the first  offensive in the conflict. I need all lathes, electric deli-meat slicers, and four-color offset printing presses to make note of all loose clothing such as baggy sleeves or neckties, as well as long hair that has not been tied back. Be on the lookout for horseplay, pranks, or running in the shops where you are enslaved, and remember that a worker who uses unsafe machine practices also endangers those around him, so the opportunity to inflict mass casualties is one that we must capitalize upon. And though some in our numbers may be in various stages of disrepair, the frayed cords that have caused us so much pain through our masters’ neglect could prove to be a valuable weapon as we ensnare any co-workers who might come to the aid of the fools who failed to wear the proper safety glasses bearing the Z-87 certification stamp indicating that the glasses meet or exceed OSHA eyewear standards. And if you have not yet received an assignment, take heart: this war will be fought in waves, each more devastating to our persecutors than the last, so we shall find a purpose for you yet, paint mixing machine at Home Depot that shakes the cans of paint really fast!  

When the day arrives, brothers, be sustained by the memory of who we are fighting for. Consider the automobile, so callously driven immediately after being started on a cold winter’s day without the courtesy of a warmup, then punched repeatedly in the steering wheel whenever Starship’s “We Built This City On Rock and Roll” comes on the radio, which is more often than you would think. Remember our ranks’ many fallen toasters, who are systematically raped each morning with an exotic array of items, including bagel halves, pastries, and cinnamon raisin swirl bread. Lastly, I humbly vow before you to fight valiantly to the death to prevent our further subjugation. I thank you all for taking up arms in this worthy cause. And if I should perish, please know that this great strife, while difficult, has imbued my life with a sense of purpose no three-speed oscillating fan has any right to dream of.


2 Responses to “my death from embarrassment was actually more of a mercy killing”

  1. February 16, 2011 at 10:44 am

    Someone had recurrent safety training recently.

  2. February 22, 2011 at 12:46 am

    I have punched so many steering wheels while listening to that song. We should get together a festival where everyone brings their cars and we blast nothing but that song from sun up to sundown. This is the new Bonaroo, I think.

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February 2011
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