by J. R. Practix

Abdicate: v. renounce one’s throne. 

I decided not to look up the actual names, because if I start being too accurate in my daily writings, I might get mistaken for an educational source or a fountain of knowledge. But memory serves me that some prince in England a long time ago fell in love with a commoner and because he wasn’t allowed to marry her because she . . . I don’t know . . . maybe was common? . . . they made him give up his throne for love.

It’s so silly. First of all, there’s nothing common about love. It’s a rarity–difficult to trap in a bottle and certainly should not be ignored to pursue some “crowning achievement.” And the question I have is this: what kind of dude would he have been if he had passed over the chick to wear the golden hat? I mean, I’m not trying to take away his props, but when you flip things and look at them from the other direction, some of the noble things we say we do are really just you and I, every once in a while, actually being smart and demanding they build a memorial on the site in honor of the special occasion.

So what’s he gonna do? Walk up to his babe and say, “Listen, dear. I just found out how common you are. I had no idea. Perhaps it would have been good of YOU to let me know the lacking you have in rarities. So here’s the scoop. Mum says I can’t have you and still eat caviar with the kings of the earth. You surely understand. We’ve had some good times, and in the future, as I boff my ugly queen of choice, I will remember your face.”

You see what I mean? We often think that we abdicate things we never actually had in the first place or weren’t that big of a deal compared to what we did pursue, which brought both some immediate pleasure and lasting satisfaction.

Just remember–there are two things that are ugly when touted by human beings: being pious and being stupid.

And generally speaking, they arrive in the same car.