Wednesday, April 18, 2007

How To Save A Life

STEP 1: Find the person that you are trying to save. Say "We need to talk."

STEP 2: When he seems skittish, explain that he should "Relax. It's just a talk."

STEP 3: As they smile politely, stare through them. This detachment will signal that this is serious and you are not confronting your emotions about the gravity.

STEP 4: Make some trite references to the "right" way, meaning both towards the East (if one is facing North) and "correct", "ethical", "conventional", or otherwise "substance-abuse free."

STEP 5: Explain to him that you have all the answers. That you know best; after all, you do. It's this kind of selflessness that appeals to those in the grips of a devestating mental and physical addiction.


STEP 6: He's going to set up walls; it's up to you to get around them. In order to slip past these defenses I suggest either:





















A play-action to the halfback, guard pulling, hook/deep post route.


OR:


























The cover of night on a bicycle.


STEP 7: Now is when you list out all the grievances you have. Here's an example list you can use as a guide:


1-You ate all the banana nut bread.

2-You scratched my new Gwen CD when you cut cocaine on it using a razor.

3-You don't turn on the fan after you use the bathroom.

4-You crashed my scooter on vacation last fall.
5-There are heroin needles everywhere.

STEP 8: Pray to God he hears you.

STEP 9: Things are probably getting hairy at this point. Your praying has upset him and he's shouting. Speak to him in low tones. Make it clear that you are serious but refuse to play "The Shouting Game."
STEP 10: Grant him one last choice:


"[Insert addict's name], you can either drive until you lose the road or break with the ones you've followed."

STEP 11: When he asks for clarification as to what the choices are, refuse him any. This is his choice. He has to make it, regardless of whether he understands the options. If drugs have sapped him of his ability to comprehend metaphors, so be it. The world weeps for no man who cannot imagine life as a river.






STEP 12a: He admits everything! Success! Give him back his wife and children and expect a particularly nice Christmas card this year.





STEP 12b: He says he's not the same and you begin to wonder why you came. Because he's obviously the same. He's still a drug addict. Look at him. That's a drug addict and until he admits to everything, he can't change. Take away his briefcase and leave the Lincoln Memorial immediately.

8 comments:

Blimp said...

I am so glad someone blogged about this important subject. Also, thanks for clarifying what "the fray" was in your labels.

Smash said...

and I'M so glad the Fray has already worked it's way into this blog. I sing it to myself and look in mirrors.

Smash said...

Also, why must you out do us all with your hilarity. And that picture of the guy sitting and thinking, so forlorn.

Smash said...

The sight of you makes me angry.

afh4 said...

When I knew there was a blog, I knew it had to involve the Fray ASAP.

Taylor said...

What is the Fray. Is that a music thing. Tonight I am going to blog about feeling left out of the blog. Right now, my emotional state is similar to that of the guy sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with his briefcase.

nichole said...

that made me giggle.

kp said...

I appreciate this blog entry as well. I always listened to the song, sang along at the top of my lungs, and still had no idea how to save a life. Now I know. Pura vida, man.