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This is like the children’s version of a Tony Robbins book being read aloud by a cursed Gwyneth Paltrow.
It’s like a zen koan for people who buy gold from Glenn Beck.
It’s like a sonnet for people whose metaphysics begins and ends with the lyrics to “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas, which they needlepointed onto a pillow in middle school.
It’s like a symphony for people who consider Styx’s “Kilroy Was Here” to be the best concept album of all time.
It’s like John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band’s acapella version of Chicken Soup for the Boomer Soul
It’s like a sweet lullaby for white boomers who still consider Cliff Huxtable to be their closest black friend.
And also, this Q bullshit being pushed by MAGA grifters is going to get people killed and they should be ashamed of themselves.
Can’t resist one more. It’s like a very stoned Shel Silverstein doing a straight faced parody of a Paul Harvey radio monologue ca. 1965.
No, I’ve got it now. It’s Mister Rogers, if Mister Rogers had been possessed by Satan’s younger and far less intelligent sibling.
