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Mar. 23rd, 2006 03:14 pmWhen I am stressed and don't know exactly what to do, I go to the nearest vending machine.
I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm hoping that the vending machine will spit out a solution. Maybe it's because Gatorade calms my nerves. I don't know.
Today, as usual, there wasn't any kind of "Instant Solution" on sale. To top it off, my Gatorade got stuck.
"Hmmm," said the vending machine repair guy, "Looks like something gummed up the works. Probably a self-reference."
"What?"
"You know, a self-reference. A story that breaks the fourth wall and starts talking about itself, usually with a clever nod-and-wink at the audience. Nine times out of ten, that's what mucks up my vending machines. You haven't been in any self-referential stories, have you?"
"No," I said defensively, "I mean, not today. At least, not until you showed up."
I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm hoping that the vending machine will spit out a solution. Maybe it's because Gatorade calms my nerves. I don't know.
Today, as usual, there wasn't any kind of "Instant Solution" on sale. To top it off, my Gatorade got stuck.
"Hmmm," said the vending machine repair guy, "Looks like something gummed up the works. Probably a self-reference."
"What?"
"You know, a self-reference. A story that breaks the fourth wall and starts talking about itself, usually with a clever nod-and-wink at the audience. Nine times out of ten, that's what mucks up my vending machines. You haven't been in any self-referential stories, have you?"
"No," I said defensively, "I mean, not today. At least, not until you showed up."
