If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.
Source: Wikipedia – Duck test
File this post under “E” for Editorial. Or Enema. I can’t remember which.
That duck quote is an oldie but a goodie, but there’s another verse that I added which unfortunately usually gets omitted. “And if you find yourself covered in duck guano you probably took duck verification a bit too far.” (Achievement: poop tag!)
There is a fable in Abyss land that goes something like this:
There was once a little boy named Tommy who loved chocolate chip cookies. He loved them so much and everyone knew it. He even ran a blog called Chocolate Chips Make My Wiener Happy. (Luckily this was long before he’d ever heard of Anthony Weiner or that might have been weird.) The blog has since mysteriously gone offline but internet archivists still have copies.
Tommy’s #1 enemy was, of course, the Cookie Monster. They had a blood feud and everyone knew it. There just weren’t enough cookies on the planet for the both of them.
Tommy ended up getting hired as the Senior Vice President for Public Policy by the I. M. Busybody for the Cookie, a nonprofit organization that promotes cookies as an alternative to sexual activity in teens. Their motto was: “Abstinence only takes a few moments but a cookie is forever.”
It turned out that the Cookie Monster received funding from Busybody.
Tommy knew what he had to do. He got right to work and had an outside-the-box idea. He would develop something called “internal rules” that would be applied consistently and fairly to all recipients of Busybody funds.
After many meetings, team building sessions, brainstorming, mind mapping, polls, surveys, focus groups, teleconferences and, of course, much prayer, it was finally decided. Busybody threw out all of the information gleaned through those processes and went with Tommy’s suggested criteria: Recipients with blue fur would be barred from receiving Busybody funds.
The board of directors approved the “blue fur” plan. The criteria was applied and, lo and behold, only one recipient was excluded. Yep, the Cookie Monster. It seemed his days of shoving cookies in his massive hole and mumbling “nom, nom, nom” while extolling the virtues of abstinence to teens were numbered.
Somehow the mainstream media got ahold of the story and blew it all out of proportion. The tweets started to fly. Some seemed to think it was a fantastical coincidence that the internal rules developed by Tommy just happened to exclude the one recipient he hated the most.
There was a retweet from Tommy himself suggesting his critics go cry a “freaking river,” which totally didn’t even sound like him. The retweet was quickly pulled but those damn internet archivists copied it and it went viral like an army of ants in a bag of Keebler ChipsDeluxe cookies.
A top official at Busybody, who happened to oversee the distribution of funds, including those to the Cookie Monster, resigned after the board’s decision to implement the new internal rules.
And, a source with “direct knowledge of decision-making” at Busybody spoke on condition of anonymity, saying that the new internal rules were developed with the deliberate intention of targeting the Cookie Monster. According to the source, Tommy was “driving force” behind the internal rules strategy.
What a heartwarming fable. The stories of the Abyss always seem to have a moral buried in there somewhere.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, Tommy is hungry for a cookie. Just because I love cookies, the cookie jar is in my room, there are crumbs on my fingers, face and the sheets of my bed, and my fingerprints are on the jar does not mean there’s proof I ate the cookies. I didn’t eat them! It’s all just a coincidence! I’m not a duck!
Oh, I almost forgot. I decided to reverse my decision. Cookie Monster, gimme a call. I know that yesterday you were Satan himself but you know I ❤ you and I want you to have those funds after all. Listen, everyone. Please don’t cut our funding. Hugs!