Murphy was the one to design the first-ever practical joke foodstuff that for some inexplicable reason, caught on and became one of the most popular lunch items in America today. Oh, yes! I refer to the hardshell taco. Hell’s blanket. One has only to look at a hardshell taco, lying peaceably, nigh innocently on their tray – I say one only has to look at it sideways – and it will explode in a spread of saucy, crunchy, lettucey shrapnel that is near impossible to consume. In fact, hardshell tacos were never designed to be consumed. But with one so powerful as Murphy as the master chef, we have all become victim once or, for those who are slow to learn, many times to this awful prank.
How does one describe Murphy? Hard to say, because Language is and always has been founded upon the concept of two opposing forces: Light and dark, male and female, republican and democrat, and so forth. Two-fold in nature, it never allows for a triad of forces, for example: Good, Evil, and Murphy. It’s a credit to the cleverness of the man himself that he has been able to sit on the sidelines and have his fun for all these countless millennia whilst the forces of Good and Evil duke it out, completely oblivious to the very existence of their mutual foe.
Assuming that the majority of my readers are considered by society to be “good guys,” it is important, in order for you to grasp this concept, that you not consider Murphy to be a force of evil, for that would place him in a category to which he is adversary. As well I might speak to you villains, whose crusty glance taints this page. First of all, know that given the chance, I will break your knees. But as well, think not that either Murphy or his powers are on your side, for they are not. Think on the last time you cut a purse, hoping for a dollar, maybe even a pawnable cell phone, and ended up with nothing more than a bundle of used bandaids. Yes, that has Murphy’s name written all over it! Especially when you’re caught and jailed by the authorities for stealing that bag full of used bandaids.
Am I getting through to you all? Can you wrap your mind around this principle? Is this nothing more than just another friendly message letting you know, even as Aristotle, Christopher Columbus, and Thom Yorke have declared to you throughout the ages, promptly ignored, that reality is desperately different that you have been told? Ten-thousand foils upon the weakness of language and its impotence for conveying this message! A million foils upon the head of Murphy!
Pause for breath. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Good.
An attempt to describe the nature and disposition of Murphy has been put forth. Now on to the man (Who may also be a woman, beast, or fungus, who knows? Until I met him, I will consider him a man) and my relationship to him (Her, it, whatever).
Because of the similarities that exist between his powers and my own, I have also always been able to sense the Murphy Effect whenever I am confronted with it. You could say that his power resonates with my own – strikes a chord upon my soul – so that I can even trace it to a degree, yet not predict it.
Always east, from whence it comes.
Faintly.
Ever so faintly.
It pulls at me so. My powers are not yet such that I would feel apt to take on an incarnate immortal single handedly – thus I search. . .
But for what?
The man knows of me as well, this I know. He also knows that I know of him. But whether or not he knows that I know he knows of me, I don’t know. But if not, so much my advantage. Murphy, beware! For in the day we finally meet, I shall wrap a Chain around you so thick, the very foundations of the earth shall blush abashed!
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