My guiding word for 2020

Braden Hajer, Copy Editor & Columnist

I  recently read Mary Schmich’s column in the Chicago Tribune on guiding words. The idea is that they’re words or short phrases that serve as constant reminders or inspiration for self-betterment. For 2020, Schmich chose “slower,” a way to calm herself in a world that moves at an ever-quickening pace. She also recommended words like “give,” “compassion,” “focus” and “breathe.”

I love this concept. In a godless country, having an idea to look to for meaning, however minuscule, can be just enough to keep ourselves moving through life like a toddler on a sandpaper slip ‘n’ slide covered in butter. 

As some of my readers certainly assumed, my guiding word for 2020 is Moist. Our world is drying out. Corporate megaliths, political gridlock, climate change and more are leading to global aridification of the human spirit. Every day we wake up drier than the last, and I fear that soon we shall be but husks in a wasteland. 

Moist is the spice of life. It’s about living for yourself and getting the moist out of it. I plan on making every day moister than the last until the day I die. To learn more about the power of moist, I recently spoke with the Central Times’ resident moisture expert, Nicholas Bird.

“Moist is more than just a word: it’s an idea,” said Bird without prompting. “People of America, I challenge you to open up a dictionary and find a better word than moist. You will soon see that it is a futile task.”

However, moist to me is more than a mere idea: it’s an active investigation. It forces you to look within yourself and objectively assess your own moistness. Upon discovering a lack of it, moist allows you to put yourself back on the right track. Were history’s largest titans of industry, from Rockefeller to Bezos, to ever stop and simply consider, “Am I moist enough?” the world would be a very different place. The societal progress made would be akin to that spawned by the delegitimization of the state of Liechtenstein.

Bird has found that nightly considerations of moist and its implications have been the crux of his personal growth as a creature and scholar.

“I ask you, fellow citizens, when you’re devouring your nightly gruel, look at your reflection in the bowl and think, “moist?” Bird said. “What you may discover will surprise and horrify you.”

While moist can be cautionary, it can equally present opportunity. At a spiritual level, moist can both help us rekindle our devotion to Cthulhu and bond with the Earth himself. Our ancestors all came from The Moist, and a recognition of this origin is critical. In an age of constant noise, simply remembering moist may help us find the inner peace and place in the world we all crave.

 The fact of the matter is the Moist Rapture is on its way. Climate change and its ramifications will be devastating for global society. The melting of the ice-caps becomes more unstoppable with each passing day. While humanity’s soul may be drying out, our world will only grow more moist. At this point, the only thing we can do is pray and hope that the Moist Gods take pity on our pitiful, mortal forms.

To practice what I preach, I’ve begun going on walks after a rainy day. Giving time for the overwhelming moistness to diffuse into my body has been highly beneficial for my well-being for obvious reasons. I recommend that everyone (except for you) do the same, but not at the same time as me; I need all the moistness suburbia has to offer.

In 2020, I’m letting moist take the driver’s seat while I lie helplessly in the trunk. I trust moist to guide me into the future, not that I have a choice. I believe in moist wholeheartedly (as well as with the rest of my organs), and you should too. Moist knows what is best, and you would do well to listen. Embrace it while you still can, for this is not an opportunity to squander. 

My message to you: live large, live proudly and, most importantly, live moist.