This week, Low Lift Ask is going summer mode. ‘Cause baby? We’re on vacation. No half-baked screeds about how wokeness has been commodified, no vague commentary on New York Media Elite culture, no hastily-assembled Shouts and Murmurs bullshit. This week is meant for one thing and one thing only: clip art of suns wearing sunglasses. Because you know that these MFs are absolute chillers.
Suns with sunglasses stare at you with a lascivious gaze, their burning intensity hidden behind a polarized veneer. But you know the truth: you know that suns with sunglasses are mentally undressing you and spanking your bare bottom. In fact, that’s the purpose for which they were developed in the 1960s by a rogue international syndicate of unaligned European scientists. Unable to decide between Capitalism and Communism, the scientists made a choice: to ignore both economic systems and instead illegally develop a number of clip art solar lotharios, their loins burning with the heat of a trillion fusion reactions. These, my friends, are some horny, nasty little freaks.
They’re found everywhere. Banners celebrating family reunions. Corporate memos announcing the reduction of Summer Fridays. The top of a menu at a beachside bar in Florida. You’re unable to escape the scourge; it seems like these guys are more transmissible than the freaking Delta Variant.
Oh, and by the way, they don’t even care about Covid or anything. Or whatever. Like if you brought up vaccine inequities with them or something they’d say something like “This is the most epically survivable virus of all time and you are an actual cuck for listing to the libstream media. You’re stupid to worry. I’m going to get laid, you moron.” Yeah. They say stuff like that. They’re mean guys. And they’re not even getting laid that much anyway.
This one is their leader ↑. He’s actually sort of nice when you get to know him but he’s definitely pretty lecherous too. One time when we were hanging out at Covenhoven he told a girl that his “dick comes with receipts so she can return it to from whence it came.” Nasty ass! Fucking sicko!!!! And he wasn’t even born like that, he’s literally a clip art sun with sunglasses. So it’s like the line didn’t even make sense. I asked him if he ever leans into the sun thing when trying to pick up people and he said “what sun thing.” And I said, “Oh, sorry, is that—like am I not supposed to say anything about that,” in sort of a contrite way. And then he called me a dork and a cuck and said that I was stupid, but I think he’s a little insecure about the sun thing and is leaning into sort of this faux confidence. And then when I had some more drinks I told him that, and then he sat me down and said, “Listen, man, you know what you don’t understand about human nature?”
And I, of course, was curious, so I said, “Buh? What the damn hell are you talking about king?” He sort of chuckled softly in this really condescending way that made me feel really small and pathetic for not knowing what he was going to say.
“We’re all just animals man, stupid sweaty stinky, and we all are just trying to get to be the alpha and stuff. And it’s because we’re just raccoons, we’re just animals.” And he leaned back after he said this and looked very smug with himself.
“We’re raccoons?” I wasn’t sure if I heard him right.
“Yeah, like, we descended from raccoons and they’re our closest relatives.”
“Dude that’s not true, we’re descended from apes. When people say that sort of thing, that we’re just animals, they normally say ‘We’re just apes’ or ‘We’re just monkeys’. Not raccoons.” I was pretty delighted to discover this enormous gap in his knowledge.
“Well raccoons are monkeys. They’re monkeys who live in the forest.” He was sort of red-faced at this point, which, since he’s a sun, I think means that his face was actually getting cooler.
“No they’re not dude. And monkeys live in the forest too. Capuchins. Spider monkeys.” I was high off glee. “Tons of monkeys live in the forest dude. And raccoons are literally not related to monkeys. Or like, they are, but it’s really distant.”
“Whatever. Freak.” He stood up really fast and knocked the table over and everyone in the bar looked at him. He looked around in a panic. The place was deathly quiet except for the song blaring over the speakers—Snape to Malfoy Manor. “This song sucks ass. You’re all ugly.” Everyone in the bar stared.
“Yo, is that guy a sun? The fuck? Is that guy a sun with sunglasses on?” said one of the longtime patrons, a man who sat at the bar nursing a beer night after night. “Who let a sun with sunglasses on in here? Was there even a bouncer tonight?”
The bartender spoke up. “The bouncer went on break for a few minutes. He had to go on break because he’s been having really bad bowel issues. That’s when the sun must have come in. We normally don’t let clip art suns with sunglasses in this bar, due to the high probability of developing skin cancer from prolonged exposure to UV radiation. But our bouncer Henry has been having really bad bowel issues because he got food poisoning from eating at Wo Hop in Chinatown. So he must not have been there when the sun with sunglasses showed up.”
I felt the need to say something. “You’re actually more likely to get food poisoning from eating at home than in a restaurant. It’s actually super fucking racist to assume that Chinese food gave Henry food poisoning.” Everyone started clapping and cheering for me. They hoisted me up on their shoulders, and for a moment, one tiny split second, I felt whole.
The sun wearing sunglasses is such a powerful fucking concept. It’s like, who watches the Watchmen? He’s wearing the thing that causes him the most misery…he put the killing thing right on his face, but didn’t give it power to do the killing…