July 03, 2017
Looking Backward

The people crowded over the old man to hear his dying words. He was on his back, shriveled and bony and gray, like a dried-out lizard lying belly-up in the sun, gasping for breath and struggling to speak. Everyone quietly leaned forward to hear what he had to say.

The oldest man in the world, the only surviving link to the twentieth century, was about to speak his last, and the ragged people of 2110 were eager to hear his words. What wisdom did this fading relic of America’s final decades have to give? Surely this man who’d lived in better times had something helpful to tell them?

Shivering and dirty, they huddled ever closer, afraid to touch him lest he dissolve like ancient parchment in their hands. He coughed, they jumped; he gurgled, they gasped; he moaned, they sighed. They feared it was too late.

Then, suddenly, the old man shot up and spoke. His ghostly voice broke out in song, and the people heard the glorious souls of their ancestors come to life:

Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there!

The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup!

Nationwide is on your side!

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Don’t take your chronic migraine laying down. Stand up!

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Posted by OHollern at July 03, 2017 03:00 AM
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Yes, it was meaningless drivel to be certain. But it nevertheless beat the discovery of a partially collapsed concrete wall, found a century after that, inscribed in spray paint with the mysterious words, "Lyin' Ted," "Crooked Hillary," "Little Marco," "Fake News" and "Yuuge!"

Nobody knew what these inscriptions meant, but they were interpreted by scholars to be the names young street thugs who led powerful juvenile gangs. This theory was later confirmed by a printout from an ancient computing device, uncovered in a centuries-old garbage dump, that spoke of child trafficking in the cellar of an underworld pizzeria, led by someone with a name similar to that of "Crooked Hillary" who was believed to be Crooked's sister. Others, however, insisted that the ringleader was Yuuge, who was believed to be the bastard child of Fake News.

Yours very crankily,
The New York Crank

Posted by: The New YorkCrank on July 5, 2017 3:56 PM

Genius post, Ohollern! And so sadů

Posted by: Liberati on July 5, 2017 8:04 PM

I have actually pondered the possibility of someday being in my last moments, and having nothing but some inane advertising jingle brain-worming in my head. It's a horrifying thought, but nothing I can do about it really. It has been maybe 40 years since cigarette ads were allowed on radio or TV? And I can still recall both music and lyrics to a disturbing number of them as if it were yesterday.

Posted by: Tim on July 6, 2017 3:10 PM
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