Under the Green Desk Lamp…

I’ve had a pretty good life. As I look back, it’s all but impossible for me to deny it—I’ve been blessed. Of all the lives people lead, and all the myriad strokes of luck one might receive in birth, I really hit the figurative jackpot. I was born in a thriving nation, and into a loving family. I received a great education, have had no significant problems with my health, and have experienced absolutely no legitimate tragedies in my life.

Yeah, it’s enough to really piss a guy off.

As I think back on it, I’ve got to say it’s a bit unfair. So many potential catastrophes could have befallen me…and yet I come up short in every imaginable scenario that could have contributed to true greatness.

I’ve never fallen into a vat of radioactive chemicals. I’ve never been left an orphan with an inexhaustible inheritance. Hell, I’ve never even been the sole surviving member of a once proud race!

Holy hell, what’s a guy gotta do to catch a break? I mean, it would be nice to have some excuse to go ballistic and begin pursuing merciless world domination, don’t you think? But without a tragic origin story, doing so just makes you an asshole.

I feel like I’ve waited long enough. When do I get my chance to enslave the human race with a mind controlling radio-wave? And commanding an army of zombie-bears from the back of a T-Rex? Forget about it!

The factory in my town could have easily blown up, sending toxic gasses cascading down upon my home. I would have awoken in a post-apocalyptic hell, with nothing of my former life left, and only a painful cough to remind me of all I’d lost. But no, I guess that would be asking a bit much. So now, when I fantasize about creating a computer virus that turns the screens of all world-bank computers into scenes from ‘Where’s Waldo’ while channelling all extant wealth into my own offshore account—I just feel crazy.

With no heart-wrenching past to be angsty about, it’s pretty tough to be a maniac.

‘Oh Brad,’ you might say, ‘you can be anything you want if you just put your mind to it.’ Well to that I say you’d better check your damn privilege. Maybe you were wrongfully detained by law-enforcement while your family was burned before your eyes—but not everyone had villainy just handed to them on a silver platter.

Even if I wanted to launch a satellite full of dangerous pathogens into space, and hold the earth’s population hostage for enormous amounts of money, I would at the very least have needed to lose control of the majority of my body due to some biochemical accident in a forgotten Slavic town. But alas, I was raised happy and healthy.

Really, I’ve got to say there’s a disturbing sense of entitlement among the world’s evil-doers. You parade around wreaking havoc and causing general disarray, without even thinking about those of us who are cursed with being well-adjusted citizens. If I’m being honest, it makes me sick.

Whatever. Fuck it. I guess I’ll just do my job, and hang out with my friends, and all that other ‘normal’ stuff. But the next time you villains decide you’re going to poison the water supply with DNA-altering substances in order to sell the cure to the highest bidder, you’d damn well better consider reaching out. Otherwise, if ever a stray meteor wipes out my nation and leaves me charged with electrical powers but lacking all memory; struggling for years and barely clinging to life until finally raising myself up stronger, harder, and with an undying thirst for vengeance—you’d better look out!

Sooner or later, I will experience hardship; and when that day does come, those of you who’ve hoarded all the suffering to yourselves while leaving the rest of us to toil in tepid normalcy will have your reckoning. When you’re sitting comfortably in your lairs, stroking your Persian cat and watching the news on your wall-monitor, and you hear about me creating a mad cross-breed of giraffes and sharks, then turning the abominable creatures lose on Wall St.—then you’ll see my true potential.

Hard times and trauma are not a gift to be taken lightly. So appreciate what you’ve got, and hold on to that top spot while it lasts. Because let’s face it; I’m just one ‘wife-kidnapped by government agents in a terrible case of mistaken identity’ away from joining you on that mountain of chaos and lunacy. And when I do, you’ll wish you’d been more inclusive to those deprived of trauma in our formative years.

Just you wait…

-Brad OH Inc.