Ted Dancin'

Here’s to the morons. The idiots. The halfwits. The chuckleheads. The ones who believe that paint is just as much a beverage as it is a tool of creativity. Who believe failure is a synonym for success. Who ignore equally reality and originality. Who see things not as they are, but as they can never be. 

They’re not fond of criticism. They take everything personally. They can’t see the forest or the trees. The dopes, the dolts and the dingbats. But they inch the conversation forward, into places it doesn’t belong. They get bogged down in minutia. Mired in stupidity. Drowning in details. Caught in a morass of inanity. Stuck between mangroves – no, persongroves - of pointlessness and ancient roots of irrationality. They’re in the weeds.

My brief, my brief, don’t lie to me. 

Tell me where you got that insight. 

In the weeds, in the weeds, 

Where no one ever reads.

I would miss the whole campaign through.  

My brief, my brief, what will you say?

I’m going with an old cliché.

In the weeds, in the weeds, 

Where no one ever reads.

I would miss the whole campaign through.  

They mix metaphors in a pot better suited for simmering bouillabaisse. The dummies, the dipsticks, and the dunderheads. They’ve never even cooked a fish stew before. The palookas, the chowderheads, and the numbskulls. They don’t know what a bouquet garni is, for God’s sake. The muttonwitted, the noodleminded, and the clownsouled. It’s almost as if they’ve gone their entire lives without ever coming face-to-face with a whole monkfish. The balloonbrained, the donkeysensed, and the spacenuts. To them, “chervil” isn’t an herb but the name of a former British Prime Minister. 

They wear hats made of tin foil to contact the folks upstairs. They are yahoos who’ve never used a yo-yo and yo-yos who’ve never used Yahoo. They actually prefer Bing.

And they write manifestos. Long ones with poor punctuation and strange, irregular indentation. They annoy you. They annoy me. They annoy everyone. Mostly, they’re not noticed. But occasionally they do life without the possibility of parole. 

Here's to them all. Cheers.