I Looked for a Quote About Magic and Was Instructed to Remove My Own Liver
In an effort to post more, I am going to post more. (The preceding sentence will later prove to be patently untrue.) Today’s topic comes to you courtesy of The Daily Post, which supplies writing prompts to those of us who have no ideas whatsoever.
Today’s topic is Do You Believe in Magic? which is at least better than that What Kind of Tomatoes Are Your Favorite Kind of Tomatoes? prompt. The assignment is, “you have been transformed into a mystical being who has the ability to do magic. Describe your new abilities in detail. How will you use your new skills?”
In detail: magical powers, I have them.
My immediate first thought was that there would be no more homeless cats and dogs. And because I’ve watched Twilight Zone episodes and Alfred Hitchcock movies and read O. Henry and seen those Toyota Rav4 commercials, I know that you have to specify that this means that all homeless cats and dogs would now get homes, that they would be good homes, that they would be happy and warm and fed, that no one else suffers as a result of all formerly homeless animals getting homes, and also you have to say, “and not just cats and dogs but also all hamsters and tame rabbits and all other animals that don’t do well outside and, oh yeah, humans.” Because if you just thoughtlessly say, “no more homeless anything,” then probably what results is some kind of horrific interspecies plague that decimates the planet.
Use magic responsibly, kids.
Second, the elimination of poverty, hunger, war, hatred, etc. Because why would you not do that if you can do that? I’m not saying anything original here, that’s the Problem of Evil, in convenient nutshell form. I like to bring it up whenever someone invites me to accept Jesus Christ as my savior (not that this happens a lot, but when it does, it’s generally when I’m in the middle seat on a full plane during the first hour of a nine-hour flight). It never registers at all though; the other person generally smiles in a confused way and then starts talking about heaven. I had a colleague a while back who would invite people to lunch and bring out the church recruitment paperwork as soon as the food arrived; she said that if we didn’t accept Christ immediately, we would spend eternity in a state of perpetual regret. She asked me, “can you imagine what an eternity of regret would feel like?” but I refrained from saying that I had agreed to have lunch with her, so, yes, I had a pretty good handle on how that would feel.
Oh, right, topic.
Third, my house would be clean all the time — again with the stipulation that it would be naturally clean, not that, for example, indentured servants would appear and start scrubbing the floors. Also, my house would be in a better neighborhood, meaning that my next-door neighbor would wear pants all of the time instead of only some of the time.
Fourth, any time anyone tries to post more than four selfies per year on the internet, all selfies after the fourth selfie would be replaced by this:
And finally, or first actually, I would make my magical powers permanent and I would advise you to do the same, should you ever get magical powers. In a similar vein, should you ever be granted three wishes, make your first wish that you want an infinite amount of wishes and also that there be some sort of safety mechanism, like, “are you sure you wish you were dead? Please reenter your wish to confirm” because otherwise there could be trouble.