This Open Letter to TV Tropes

Dear TV Tropes,

You've destroyed me. I hope you're happy. You seemed so nice at first, offering me a fresh take on my favorite pop culture. But it's clear to me now what you are. You've baited the trap so perfectly. Just one more little link, just one more page, and suddenly my productivity is gone. It's all gone.

Even when I get away from you, I can't fully escape. I could be on a completely different website, minding my own business, when a stray link brings me back. Suddenly I'm right back in, reading about breaking the fourth wall, being genre savvy, and not being able to get away with anything. Just as I can't get away from you.

This Open Letter to America

Dear America,

You aren't going to catch Ebola. Let me repeat that. You are not going to catch Ebola. So do yourselves a favor and calm down. Turn off the news, take a deep breath, and stop freaking out. Because, I can't say this enough, you aren't going to catch Ebola.

I know, Ebola is a scary sounding disease. Someone who contracts Ebola should be scared, because it can kill you in nasty ways. It does have a scary mortality rate for those who have it. However, let me remind you that you won't catch it. You're not going to get it. This is not an impending pandemic.

This Open Letter to Liberals and Progressives

Dear Liberals and Progressives,

I want you to know that I think it's a very good idea to bring attention to the issues of misogyny, rape culture, still-present racism, class warfare, equal pay, and many other problems we still face today. As our nation and world moves forward into the 21st century, we need to understand that these issues don't just go away if we decide ignore it. We still have some big fights on our hands, and that's what I want to talk to you about.

You need to stop talking about the Duke Lacrosse case. Immediately.

I know that a lot of you immediately latched onto the story back in 2006. The story of the black stripper who was allegedly gang-raped by the Duke Lacrosse team had everything: sex, race, class, privilege. It seemed like a clear-cut case of white, male privilege run amok. It was a rallying cry to bring attention to the plight of rape victims on college campuses. (An issue that is still very relevant today.) It was also a chance to take a look at the continued mistreatment of black females in our culture. (Also still relevant today.)

This Open Letter to People who say "Happy Holidays"

Dear People who say "Happy Holidays,"

There are three phrases that history will never forget and never forgive: "Crucify Him," "I was just following orders," and "Happy Holidays." I just want to put what you're doing in the proper perspective, because right now you seem blithely unaware of your crimes against humanity. When you wish me a "Happy Holidays," are you completely unaware the depth of your depravity? Don't you understand that every time you utter those foul, disgusting words, your soul shrivels up and Lucifer dances a jig? Can't you see the Divine Judgement headed your way?

I'm telling you this, as a friend, that you need to stop this reprehensible behavior immediately. One of these days, it will be legal to hunt people like you for sport. After all, running you down like an animal is the only solution I see to preserving the true meaning of Christmas. Your bloody carcass will serve as a clear reminder that Christmas is about God's love for all humankind. Except for people like you.

This Open Letter to My Leftovers

Dear Leftovers,

I'm not eating you. I don't care how awesome a meal you were the first time around. I don't care how zesty and flavorful you were. That was two weeks ago, and unlike Ghostbusters, you have not aged well. Like Ghostbusters, you are covered in unexplained green slime and some people from the EPA want to shut you down. So no, I'm not eating you.

Don't take it so personally. It's not like I didn't want to eat you. I love leftovers. Sometimes food is better the second time around, and leftovers are an under-rated pleasure. That's why I get a to-go box when I'm dining out, as there's nothing like having last night's dinner for breakfast. Believe me, I am very pro-leftover.

This Open Letter to Moral Crusaders

Dear Moral Crusaders,

I know you're busy, let's cut to the chase. We need each other. You need a villain to star in your next fund-raising newsletter, and I need the publicity. As they say in the business world, we could create some real synergy and shift our paradigms. (Most of my business expertise comes from Dilbert.)

I'm a struggling author trying to make it big, but not a lot of people are paying attention. Perhaps that's my fault, as I could be doing more to increase my brand. I could be doing a lot more internet-savvy things to generate attention, but marketing is a lot of work. I'm a writer. The entire point of being a writer is to do as little work as possible.

This Open Letter to my DVD Collection

Dear DVD Collection,

I know it feels like I've abandoned you. Up until a few weeks ago, you were my go to source for entertainment. When I had a few hours to kill and I wanted something I could count on, and I didn't want to put up with commercials, you were my first and only destination. I could throw in a disk (and by that I mean carefully transfer the disk from the case to the player to avoid scratches and extend the life of the DVD) and whether it was a movie or a favorite television show, the result was enjoyable all the same.

Sometimes I would sit back and re-watch a movie I'd seen dozens of times already. Or I might have some busy-work or chores to do, and the familiar television characters would keep my company during my drudgery. It was a solid system, one you feel I've betrayed because now I have Netflix and Hulu Plus.

This Open Letter to my Brain

Dear Brain,

I know you're busy managing all my vital bodily functions and keeping me alive. You have a pretty full schedule, and I understand this. However, you have another duty as well, and lately you've been dropping the ball. I'm trying to remember something important, and when I ask you about it, I get nothing.

Look, I don't need to recall a long list of obscure Simpsons quotes from the 90's. I don't need to know the lyrics to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song. I don't need to know the order of the planets, the colors of the rainbow, or the recipe for banana bread. Don't get me wrong, that's good information to have when I need it, but I don't need it right now.

This Open Letter to Gay Marriage Opponents

Dear Gay Marriage Opponents,

I get that you are passionate about this issue, more so now that the Supreme Court has overturned parts of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and basically nullified Proposition 8. I'm not saying you don't have the right to your opinion. I'm a big believer in free speech and would never want to censor you. However, in your defense of this position, may I ask you a favor? Some of you are claiming that allowing gay marriage will lead to people wanting to marry their household appliances. I'd really appreciate it if you stopped saying that, because now one of my appliances wants to marry me.

Apparently my Playstation 2 has been half-hearing pundits talk about the issue for years now, and it somehow got the idea that since DOMA was overturned, man-machine marriage is now legal or about to be. It figures that since we've had a relationship for years, now, that it's time to get serious. It doesn't care about the fact that I'm already married and that marriage is a contract between two consenting human parties. It just wants to get married.

This Open Letter to the Used Game Sticker I Can't Fully Peel Off

Dear used game sticker I can't fully peel off,

Can't you get the hint? You are no longer wanted here. You've served your purpose, alerting me that you are a much cheaper version of a game I want. You have allowed me to not only get a game for a much cheaper price, but ensure that this transaction doesn't put a cent in the hands of game companies who refuse to release a 'Greatest Hits' version of the game. You did exactly as you were told, and I commend you for it.

But now it's time to go. You just can't let go. I try to peel you off, but what I get is that white under-sticker residue that tenaciously clings to the game. I can't have that. I need you to smoothly peel off and be like you were never there. I need to remove your presence from my life, and I need you gone yesterday.  It's nothing personal, I just don't want you ruining the aesthetics of my game collection.

This Open Letter to the Spider in my Car

Dear spider in my car,

I won't ask how you got into my car. You are an engine of pure evil and hate, forged from my every nightmare, of course you'd get in there. I should be asking what took you so long to find me in one of my most vulnerable spots. It's the perfect place for an assassination attempt, which is why I presume you were there. I'm in traffic, belted to the seat, a literal captive audience. What about that setup isn't perfect for you?

Was it too easy? Did you find the lack of challenge boring? Because let me tell you, my terror was real. I pride myself on making sure that my face is not within four feet of any live spider. To see you crawling around on my visor was not what I expected when I flipped it down to shade my eyes. I was expecting to see better without the sun in my eyes. And I did. I saw all too clearly the terror that skitters on eight legs.

This Open Letter to My Fellow Christians

Dear Fellow Christians,

In light of the tragic events at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut last Friday, a few of us really, really want to tell the rest of us why God would allow such an evil act. We just can't keep it to ourselves, and so we get on our soapboxes, find microphones and cameras, and let everyone know just who is to blame for the deaths of 20 children. As fellow believer and someone who often wrestles with the question of how God who can allow such evil to exist, I humbly offer my own suggestion.

Please stop talking.

This Open Letter to Christmas Music

Dear Christmas Music,

I don't hate you. I want you to realize that this isn't personal. You are not the problem. (To be fair, sometimes you're the problem, but only when you're Christmas Shoes.) My problem is with stores that play you too early, and they are making me not like you. It's their fault, not yours.

You must understand, I like hearing Christmas music in December. It's a staple of the season, and I wouldn't have it any other way. My wife and I have a tradition every Christmas Day. We put on John Denver and the Muppets: A Christmas Together, one of the greatest Christmas albums of all time. I've been listening to that album since I can remember, and I will keep listening to it every Christmas I'm around.

This Open Letter to DVD Commentaries

Dear DVD Commentaries,

Look, I know I bought the deluxe edition DVD because you were on it. In fact, I made sure to get the edition with two different tracks, one with the cast and the other with the writers and producers. I was so excited to have you in my media library because I knew it would just expand my movie enjoyment to have you with me.

And yet, here we are, over a year or more later and I still haven't listened to you. Oh, I've watched the movie half-a-dozen times or more, and the next time I keep telling myself I'll actually get to you. I don't even read the trivia section on the IMDB page because I don't want to spoil anything. It's going to be great, I tell myself, when I can finally learn all the secrets of the film, the stuff I never noticed. It's going to make watching the movie a completely different experience.

This Open Letter to Vending Machines

Dear Vending Machines,

Consider this my complete and utter unequivocal surrender. You won, I lost. It wasn't even close, and it would be laughable for me to consider it a draw. Sometimes you just realize you were beaten badly, pwned as the kids like to say. You got me, you really got me.

It was going so well for a while. I was able to resist your siren call and walk right on by. No matter how delicious your wares, I wasn't tempted. Okay, I was tempted, but I had the perfect way of preventing myself from succumbing: I didn't carry cash. Thanks to credit and debit cards, we are becoming more and more a cashless society, meaning that sheer practicality prevented me from giving in. I can't spend what I didn't have.

And then you installed card swipes.

This Open Letter to Strawberry Ice Cream

Dear Strawberry Ice Cream,

To me, you are the greatest flavor of ice cream ever. Others may prefer vanilla, chocolate, or chocolate-chip cookie dough, but for me, there's nothing like a scoop, cone, or bowl of strawberry. It doesn't even matter who makes you, because whether you come from Blue Bell, Breyers, or the local supermarket brand, you are always delicious. You are great with pie, cake, or in a milkshake. You are practically perfect in every way.

Even as a young child, I always preferred you over all other flavors. I was never actually a fan of chocolate ice cream. I know, a child who doesn't like chocolate ice ream? I also didn't like chocolate milk, so you can see that I've always been a little strange. You didn't judge me, you accepted me for my quirks.

This Open Letter to Nintendo

Dear Nintendo,

Today I bought the Metroid Prime Trilogy for Wii, and you aren't going to see a dime of that money. It's too bad, because it wasn't cheap. In fact, the going rate for this game on Amazon is about $70 used, if you're lucky. That's a lot of money you chose to leave on the table, money that is going straight into the resale market's hands. Thing is, you might try to blame places like Amazon or Gamestop, and that might be the case for Sony or Microsoft. Not you, though. This is all your fault.

Why is it your fault? Because you didn't release very many copies. Why? The Metroid Prime games were huge on both the Gamecube and the Wii. In fact, this compilation gives us the chance to play the first two Metroid Prime games with 16:9 aspect ratio and the Wii controls, which are so much better than the Gamecube controller. What a fantastic concept, you should be commended for this. Instead, I condemn you.

This Open Letter to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

Dear Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,

I can't believe that your last new episodes aired in 1996. It's been sixteen years since your series bowed out gracefully, and that boggles my mind. I suppose it's hard to realize your show ended when it never stopped being on the air. If I wanted to watch an episode today, I can find at least three stations airing reruns. I'm not complaining, having you around is kind of comforting.

I was in junior high and high school when you were on the air. You taught my generation what was dope, funky, and fresh. We learned a whole new set of fat jokes from you ragging on Uncle Phil, and we also learned to appreciate Tom Jones for the musical genius he is. We learned how to properly place the brim of a cap and the instant syle upgrade one gets by wearing a blazer inside-out. You changed our lives.

This Open Letter to: IMDB

Dear IMDB,

Thank you for saving my marriage. I really can't stress how many pointless arguments you've prevented over the years. Whenever my wife and I see a movie or watch something on TV, we never argue about who that actor or actress is. We never argue about what sitcom they used to star in or what obscure cartoon character thy once voiced. We don't have those kinds of arguments because we can easily look it up. Thank you for that.

I'm sure we're not the only couple you've helped. There have got to be millions of couples out there who have argued endlessly over who played what in this or that. Before you existed, these pointless arguments quickly spiraled out of control: unkind word were said, things were thrown, someone was stabbed. Thankfully, you were there to present these future stabbings. Now all it takes is an internet connection and peace and harmony are restored.

This Open Letter to People who sit in their parked cars

Dear People who sit in their parked cars.

Look, I know that sometimes we have things to do after we park. Perhaps we need to check a voice mail or a text. Sometimes a song is playing on the radio and we want to finish listening to it. Perhaps now is the time to finish that snack. Or the other people on the road were such idiots that we have to take a few minutes to let the rage die down before we're fit to be around other humans.

Those are all understandable reasons to sit in your car. I have no argument with them. However, that should only take you a few minutes at most. However, if I park next to you, go inside my destination, come out thirty minutes later and see you still sitting in your car, I want you to know something. You're really creeping me out.