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Nabisco Loves Me
the commune's Rok Finger bites one for the team 


Monday, Oct. 16, 2000
It's the question I think many of us ask over and over again... "Has my life mattered any?" "Has my being here changed anything or anyone?" "How has my life made the world a better place?"

It's a series of questions that needlessly rephrase that one first question I mentioned. But you can ask it a million times over and maybe never really know the answer, unless you've ever had a sitcom on ABC's "TGIF" line-up, in which case you can be assured you've made the world a darker and more painful place.

As for us regular joes, jacks, roks, rudys, steves, percys, and joaquins, we have to make a list. Maybe you do this, too--make a list of all the ways you've made the world a better place, all the things you have going for you, all the positive benefits your existence has brought. Maybe you make three lists. Always asking how things are better because you're here.

Well, maybe like you, I've made a list as described and come up with nada. I'll be damned if I can figure out how I've made the world better. Sure, maybe by the mere fact I'm here the world is different, but is it better? There's a few things I'm proud of, for sure. My two gay sons and my daughter, who may in fact be a yeti. My love wife of thirty years, Arvelyn; my former wife of thirty years, Wyfe. Although I have to admit my being here probably wouldn't affect her one way or the other. But there's other things, too, like the class in Feudalism I teach at U Ignorant, my astonishing collection of pogs and bottlecaps, and my 1983 biographic short film "Rok's Off." I have a few journalism awards but I understand they only count if they're actually presented to you, not picked up while unguarded at company buffets.

In the end, though, does all that really matter? The awards, the family, the class, the film critics call "an astonishing wake-up call to cat lovers everywhere"?

Maybe not, I thought. And I was a little sadder that day. So I dug into a box of my favorite snack cracker, the world-famous Cheez-Its.

And there on the box was my salvation.

A modest-size banner proclaiming Cheez-Its to be America's #1-selling brand cheese cracker. And, they plainly stated, it wouldn't be so if it wasn't for loyal customers like me.

Cheez-Its, old friend, you always remind me of the good in the world. So wise and cheese-tastious.

It was I who played a part in the efforts to make Cheez-Its the world's #1-selling brand cheese cracker. Without brand-loyal customers like yours truly, it's very likely Cheez-Its would never hold onto that coveted place in Americana. So I scoff to you, naysayers, sayers of nay, that Rok Finger has done nothing with his life.

"#1-selling brand cheese cracker"... what do you call that? Bite hard, boys! I got yer cheese cracker right here!

Thank you, Cheez-Its, for making me a part of your success. Many more happy years to come.


Milestones
the commune's scratch 'n sniff look at last year's office potluck


Opportunities
Pants a Capitalist

Free Virus Baggies

Take a Kitten, Please

the commune book selections
the commune's Bear in Rearview
the commune's Big Book of Duke
Faces of the commune
the commune 100: Leaders and Revolutionaries
the commune 100: Traitors and Noodledicks






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Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is likely to piss off her dad big-time.

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