by J. R. Practix

ABCs: n  the alphabet.

That cursed little kiddy-song about the ABCs is certainly the melodic crack cocaine which I still find myself addicted to as an adult, often completely unable to remember any singular letter without performing the entire ensemble. For years, as a kid, I was convinced that L-M-N-O-P were really just one letter, cohabitating many spiritual forms, since they are sung together so quickly.

I think we may be missing an opportunity to ingrain our young children with other equally as intoxicating melodic subliminal messages, to forever affect their lives.

How about this, for instance? (Sung to the same tune as the ABCs):

Al-ways be nice, clean your room,

Treat your mom and dad real well

Don’t hit little friends you know

And grow up making lots of dough

A doctor, yes–lawyer, sure

Go and find a cancer cure

Then you’ll make your parents glad

And the neighbors jealous and mad.

Then you’ll be the envy of all

Rule the world and have a ball.

You see what I mean? We could control the destiny of our offspring and channel them towards prosperity simply by forcing that particular tune into their brains.

It worked for the ABCs. I am adrift on a sea of numerals, “Roman the waves,”  without the song.

Music may be the answer to the world’s problems. And if it isn’t, I don’t give politics much of a chance, either…