In 1957, Muddy Waters declared to the world: "Got my Mojo working, but it just don't work on you."
Society was perplexed. His Mojo? What was that? Where did it come from? And why is he telling us about it?
All of a sudden we felt strangely inadequate. We didn't know the first thing about Mojo, but Muddy Waters did. He even had it working! What if ours was non-functional? How would we even check?
But of course, no one could actually ask for more information. To ask would be to betray one's ignorance, and reveal to the world just how far away you were from having your own Mojo working. We couldn't risk approaching the wrong person. If whoever we asked already had their Mojo working, they would surely ridicule us.
Not even knowing what quality we were trying to assess, we were paralyzed by ignorance. The only thing to do was just to fake it for as long as possible and hope that we could figure the whole thing out before anyone else noticed. It's possible that Muddy Waters had the only working Mojo in human history, but ever since that fateful day fifty four years ago we've all been forced to live a lie.
It's time to come out of the closet. Or, erm, some other terminology that makes people less uncomfortable. It's time be honest, with ourselves and with each other.
My name is Adam, and I do not have my Mojo working. I couldn't even tell you what's wrong with it. Maybe the battery is worn down? See, that was just a wild guess, I don't even know what it runs on in the first place. Could it perhaps be solar-powered, will it start working if I leave it in the sun? I can only speculate.
I suppose this means I haven't lived up to the standard set by Muddy Waters. But you know what? He died two days after I was born. How's the Mojo these days Muddy? Got a whole lot less working for you now, don't you? See, I don't have to put up with your crap, because however hard your Mojo was working, it just don't work on me.
Do I feel emancipated? You bet your sweet bippy.
Update Thursday.
No comments:
Post a Comment