“But if I can’t shoot people,” I thought out loud, “how can I be happy?
I realized that the world was missing something. There just wasn’t enough good in the world, and perhaps part of the reason was me. I did a lot a bad. But part of the reason was NBC, too. They cancelled My Name Is Earl.
How can we be expected to be good people when television doesn’t guide us in that direction? Instead of teaching us how to right past wrongs, television teaches us how to be confused and stranded on a tropical island, how to heal hospital patients with insults and how to laugh at fat people doing whatever it is fat people do.
There simply isn’t a moral guide for us anymore, and so it’s no wonder I’m morally gray.
It’s up to me to fill that void. It’s up to me to right the wrongs of my past and set an example to everyone else. I will have to inspire them to do good, and who knows, maybe there could be some shooting.
“There can’t be any shooting,” Claire explained.
“But that’s my favorite part,” I whined. She, of course, was right, I realized. “What if I used my taser gun?”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Just, like, be a better person, duh!”
I suppose I might as well give it a try. There was a void needing to be filled in the world, and I’m just the person to do it. I’ve got the looks, the wisdom, the list-writing capabilities, the gun–
“No gun!”
–the sling-shot and the determination. I could do this. And maybe I could even get my own TV show.
My name is Noah.
I’m just trying to be a better person.