The Cup Song of Death

In an empty parking lot by an even emptier parking lot, bordered by an amazingly quiet parking lot where there weren’t any people, there were two people who made the empty parking lot the proud caregiver of two human beings and no longer empty, although his soul was truly emptied of all love and compassion for his neighbors. This parking lot, proud of his recent accomplishment, proclaimed himself better than all the nearby parking lots and made himself the ruthless dictator he’d always dreamed of becoming. The humans were unaware they were standing in the ruling parking lot and continued on life as normal as everything else did, because no one cared which parking lot is the best, like no one cares which woodchip is the best, like no one cares which human is the best, they all just make an interesting sound when you crush them.

The humans continued wasting their lives like you are doing right now until they died, rotted, and made lovely plant food. The parking lot was destroyed; the plants killed all other living creatures and took back the earth as their home once again.

In a different empty parking lot (there are quite a few) two humans sat at the lemonade stand they had unwisely set up in a place where there were no people, as if they were assuming the parking lots would like to buy some lemonade, something they really wouldn’t do because they have no mouths or taste buds and have never had a refreshing sip of cool lemonade on a day when the earth is getting dangerously close to crashing into the sun, but do you ever think about burning hot parking lots that can’t enjoy lemonade? No, you only think about yourself.

The two humans sat and looked at a cup of lemonade sitting on their table. It was filled about half way and so the humans started the over discussed topic of whether the cup was half full or half empty. The first human was quite sure it was half full, while the other mumbled the various reasons why it wasn’t. Another random person came along and stared at them.

“Why do you only fill your cups half way? This is an unacceptable business practice. As a paying customer, I expect the best deal possible and, unless you desist from trying to rip-off the consumer, I will take my money elsewhere.”

But the two humans were two busy calling their chemist friend about their conundrum to care about proper business practices, so the customer stopped off to a different empty parking lot where he was immediately eaten by plants and became one with the earth.

Their friend arrived and proclaimed that the only way to tell for sure was to count the individual molecules. A nearby optimist announced that the cup was always full, just half full of air. The opportunist grabbed the glass, drank it, and announced that the glass was now empty; he was then rushed to the hospital as he had swallowed poison the two humans had added, as they were secretly plants and just wanted more plant food. The moral of the story is to always figure out what is in the glass before you begin discussing the philosophical consequences of how full or empty it may be.

The humans poured another glass as law enforcement arrived. A nearby fly found that the glass was plenty full enough to drown in. As the humans were taken to jail where they would continue the waste their lives in a more controlled setting, the tablecloth and table continued the discussion.

“If you ask me, which no one did, I would say that it really didn’t matter if the glass was half full or empty, only if you can use what’s inside.” The tablecloth remarked. The table remained silent like a table, because, idiot, tables don’t talk. The tablecloth continued chattering away about the glass and the table continued to table until even the drowned fly was annoyed, a significant accomplishment if you consider its current position.

More and more humans gathered around discussing the topic, each with their own opinion and reasons they were the only ones that could possibly be right, until the parking lot, with little hesitation, jumped up and yelled at the top of its nonexistent voice,

“WHY DOES THE GLASS MATTER WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE. WHY IN THE WOURLD WOULD I CARE?”

The table flipped and sent its contents flying.

The fly nodded in agreement, and with the tables so violently turned they agreed to stop judging people on their preferences in wording, realized that not everyone has the same opinion and that that isn’t a bad thing, and that they should really be focusing on making the world a better place instead of discussing cups. The plants completed their plan of world domination and everyone died. The End.

Forget about the glass analogy. It’s gotten a bit ridiculous.

Wish you weren’t here,

Charlotte L. Dodgson

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