Miss Information rubs it in our facesMiss Information has sent an appropriately tasteful postcard to her beleaguered co-workers back home. Nothing lewd, nothing silly, just a perfectly acceptable and terribly dull modern city skyline at dusk. The tone is uncharacteristically chipper.
She is surprisingly succinct in her evaluations: nice people, good coffee, friendly marsupials. Evidently, there is self-censorship at work here. Miss Information knows full well the postcard will be passed around the staff room and commented upon by her more irony-challenged co-workers and supervisors, so she must play it safe: no withering, blood drawing commentary here. No pithy observations about the natives and their quirky customs (they put sour fermented yeast on their toast, and then they eat it!!). A typical, cute, funny “ha ha” postcard you would expect your thirteen year old niece on an exchange trip to write.
It’s almost -- shudder – earnest. Like she’s actually having a good time. This is unfathomable.
We who know her are terrified. No good can come of this.
--Scooter (guest blogger)