People are getting hyped up about the eclipse. It’s like a galactic Super Bowl where we already know the outcome. You can watch what is going to happen on YouTube right now, and if you actually watch the eclipse, you will go blind. So what’s the excitement? An astrological anomaly that happens all the time just in different parts of the world?
You could make the eclipse sort of happen whenever you want. Cut out a piece of cardboard roughly the size of the moon, put on weird non-3d 3d-glasses and slowly wave the cardboard past the sun trying not to go blind. So what’s the big deal?
The big deal is how people are reacting to the eclipse. There is a massive industry trying to capitalize on this mooning of the sun. Whether it’s the glasses or the events or merchandise or the staggering amount of websites dedicated to the 2017 eclipse that look like they were created in 1998. People are desperate to make money and an anomaly is an opportunity.
Me? I failed to get my Eclipse Brothel off the ground. But there are guaranteed a disturbing number of couples (and just generally baby-hungry strangers) who are trying to conceive during the eclipse. Because they think, what, that they’ll create an incredibly situational werewolf? A niche-wolf?
It’s not often that anyone can pinpoint when a grown adult is going to masturbate, but I, and you, know exactly when Neil deGrasse Tyson is going to be masturbating today. Also, I hope that security around his ejaculate is being guarded because, if not, it will look like a crossover of National Treasure and Mission Impossible with people trying to sponge up his lunar-splash.
The only thing that is going to happen is that there will be an eclipse. These happen all the time all around the globe. So often, in fact, that there are “eclipse chasers.” These are people who, when they learn about a total eclipse, immediately book a flight and orgasmically watch the moon throw shade on the sun. “Dad, can we go to Disneyland on our family vacation this year?” “Now, little Corona, is there going to be an eclipse on the Matterhorn? No, it’s only going to be best seen from a moonshine and meth brewing shack in the Appalachians in Tennessee this year. So stop whining, practice your knife fighting, and pack your shorts.” “Dad, did you name me after the beer?” “Well, Corona, I was shockingly drunk when you were conceived during the 2002 eclipse after party in Australia, but no, you were obviously named after the white glowing halo only visible during a total solar eclipse.” “Dad, is it too late to abort me?”
If you are really excited by the eclipse, by all means, don’t let me yuck your yum. I’m asking you to help me understand the excitement. Get me on the hype train. Try to convince me I should risk blindness to see this relatively common event.
Again, don’t go blind. I don’t print these in brail.