Official Resolution Memorandum For FY99 / 22 December 1998

You might think there’s a lot of text tucked away in the dark recesses of this site, but there used to be even more until some overexuberant methamphetamine-fueled copyeditors blazed through here with what they called “the scythe of righteousness,” clearing away the “ego-swollen chaff” and “morbid detritus of a mind gone south,” thereby eliminating many of the perhaps less-well-thought-out text products that were rushed to “publication” to meet the relentless demand imposed by our non-paying readers. Although these products were, MAYBE, not up to the usual top-notch quality of our other work and, more likely, revealed certain information about certain parties that have since “requested” we remove said content, there were still some fine, fine entries. Among these were our yearly list of New Year’s resolutions which have all mysteriously disappeared, which is unfortunate because we like, at this time of year, to look back and see what our prior resolutions were and calculate a guesstimatorial success-to-failure ratio and just take a few moments, maybe by the side of a creek, to reflect upon the significance of that ratio and possibly work out some pro-active stances we could take to improve it in the coming year.

Alas, that is not to be. We must start anew with the proverbial tabula rasa, looking ever forward, not allowing the past to affect the future. And, frankly, there’s no way we’d rather live, especially considering the rather sorry state of the past (a state that shows little hope for improvement). That being said, let us announce the latest batch of resolutions, the result of many, many meetings and retreats, informal polls, trust falls, locked suggestion boxes, Expo Dry Erase Markers, and an unusually large and illegal intake of synthesized perichondrium, the fibrous membrane covering the surface of cartilage, except at joint endings.

So — Fireland Text Products, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Rugburn Industries, hereby declares the following resolutions for Fiscal Year 1999:

  1. Cut down on the synthesized perichondrium.

  2. Use the night-vision goggles and prototype long-range recording equipment for military purposes only.

  3. Finally finish the conversion of HQ to a “paperless office,” including a complete eradication of facial tissue, Post-It Notes, toilet paper, sanitary toilet seat covers, business cards, cardboard boxes, paychecks, origami cranes, and all wooden structures (desks, doors, structural beams, pencils, etc.) since wood is a major contributor to paper.

  4. Somehow work more references to The Dark Crystal into upcoming SMUG columns.

  5. Subsist on a diet consisting entirely of 5 mg of a supersaturated nutritional supplement embedded in a clear liquid, administered via pipette into the eye once per diem.

  6. Learn the finer points of electronic bocce; perhaps go pro.

  7. Try, I mean at least TRY to work out some arrangement between Ula and Dynamo Girl and Mistress Kat and Dolores. We all used to get along so well together, back in those halcyon days at the Institute when life seemed on the verge of exploding with potential and delight. What happened to us? We had it all in the palm of our hands — the success of our work at Milan and at polyamory — but now it’s gone, all gone.

  8. Pull that damn Abdomenizer out from under the bed and start a regimented workout! Seriously! Every day whilst watching Tom Brokaw work his magic!

  9. Using the wild whim of the Yahtzee dice as a selector, rain death upon randomly chosen nations via tactical nuclear weapons from a cloaked satellite in geostationary orbit.

  10. Get a funny bumper sticker for that satellite, like “How’s my driving? Call me at your mother’s.” Or better yet, finally get those “Fuck John Muir!” stickers made.

  11. Buy extra rations and a giant plexiglas sphere to protect the executive staff from rioting Year 2000 lunatics.

  12. Extend a helping hand to those in need. By “[e]xtend a helping hand to” we mean “look intently at some vague point in the distance while hurriedly walking past in order to teach the always-valuable lesson of ‘God helps those who help themselves’ when encountering.”

  13. Speaking of God, let’s see if that Guy has the cojones to take us on mano a mano in a knife fight!

  14. Finalize steely gaze, firm countenance.

  15. Get the catch-phrase “that’s really fireland-y” into mainstream American jargon.

Joshua Green Allen

Fireland is a rickety old website by Joshua Allen.

A novel called Chokeville and a beverage-review site called The Knowledge For Thirst.

A great deal of typing is collected in the Archive.

Articles and whatnot for other sites, including The Morning News, Wired, and McSweeney's, can be found in External.

I've been involved in a number of Epiphany Sink pictures.

I record music under the name Orifex.

The RSS feed is here.

Join the notify list for extremely infrequent updates via email.

The Sexiest Sentence Alive, Fireland Broke My Will To Live, The Black Pill Diaries, and a sampling of Old Fireland Designs.

I can be contacted at .


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