Overqualified: Utopia awaits!

To: Irving Oil
Re: The future is ours

Dear Irving,

I am writing to apply for a job with your company, and my assigned mission is to take you down from the inside. Little things, you know? I'm supposed to fudge your tax records a bit, leave you open to audits. Misdirect shipments. Eat away at your profits so that your costs go up, too. I'm here to speed up the peak oil problem, because after that the world starts getting better.

It gets better and better, Irving. By the time I'm born, a hundred years from now, there's no crime. There's no more pollution. Human beings are living to be almost two hundred years old. Every year that number gets bigger. They tell me that means I might live forever.

So I volunteered to be sent into the past. How could any kid grow up, hearing about crime and violence and war and sexually transmitted diseases, and not think, "Fuck, that sounds exciting." My mission is to sabotage you, but really, I want to help you. I don't want to live forever, Irving. I want to live and die and be afraid and excited and injured in a daring rooftop escape.

I spent seventy years sitting around in classrooms just learning. Oh, how can we live longer? Oh how can we make ourselves more perfect? Oh, we're all very wise. But I want to kill something. I want to get drunk in a bar and fuck a dude with a scar down the side of his face. I want a scar down the side of my face. I want to get an alcoholic woman pregnant, and when that little freak squirts out, nine months later, I want to tell him, "Live for today, you retarded little shit. The end is near."

Joey Comeau