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Every single time he touches the ball, we’re all thinking it: “He could have figured this out already.”
It’s strange that we’re all sitting here in quarantine and listening to the Fiona Apple record and wondering when all this is going to be over when Emerson Hyndman could have already found an alternate universe where everything is the same except the lack of a pandemic, and subsequently found a way to replace our existence with theirs through a process called Dimensional Synergism. But nope. We’re here.
Which can only mean he hasn’t figured it out yet. So we’re still here waiting while he does this.
https://twitter.com/ATLUTD/status/1249774701934755840?s=20
Cool.
So cool in fact...
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Now you can see in this “meme” that several things are happening here. Emerson Hyndman is represented by the text “Emerson Hyndman” and figuring out Dimensional Synergism like he promised is represented by the bug on the backboard he kills when he throws the basketball. Do you get it? He threw a basketball at the one thing that could fix this problem instead of fixing it.
Some of you may think we, the folks at Clear & Obvious, are being too harsh on Emerson but we’re not the ones who came out in the media and said, “It’s me, Emerson Hyndman. I am going to fix this through the process of Dimensional Synergism. Or my name isn’t Emerson Hyndman.” That’s an airtight decree. And one very publicly made through a text message to my friend Chris that he sent me screenshot of.
Unless...
UNLESS...
Look at that last part of the sentence. “Or my name isn’t Emerson Hyndman.” Perhaps the reason he’s been so lazy about solving all of our problems with one brilliant stroke of scientific genius that will answer every question we’ve ever had is that his name isn’t Emerson Hyndman? MAYBE, he’s been going by an alter ego this entire time. MAYBE, he’s hiding something. MAYBE, the logical jump in thought is that if he’s hiding something, he must actually be the son of famous hijacker D.B. Cooper and is trying to hide the fact his real name is Emerson Emerson (D.B. Cooper’s second wife having the surname Emerson and her being famously uncreative with names and Emerson being less D.B. Cooper’s son and more D.B. Cooper’s step-son, a fact that Emerson would bring up constantly each time D.B. came to ask Emerson to politely turn down the My Chemical Romance record blaring from his room, right before Emerson reminded D.B. that all the money he stole was useless because the bills would have been identified immediately upon use so all he did was go on a stressful skydiving trip).
Or maybe you think that’s stupid. Good. It was. But I had to lead with something to make the truth seem somehow less ridiculous.
The truth is that Emerson could figure this out. But he’s too scared to try. And for that we should all be ashamed of ourselves for putting so much pressure on Emerson to save humanity. He never asked for this. And as long as you ignore the times he said, “It’s me Emerson Hyndman and I say, BRING IT ON BABY. IMMA SAVE THE WORLD.” before launching into a profanity laden freestyle rap that declared himself the greatest person alive while also presenting concise and surprisingly progressive opinons on Israel, then it’s clear he never asked for this.
So why hasn’t Emerson Hyndman figured out interdimensional travel yet?
You.
Yes, you.
Stop @’ing him every day to save us. Stop standing in front of his house with signs suggesting new mathematical constants to try. Stop writing lengthy blog posts blaming him for not figuring out interdimensional travel. Why?
Because he’s going to do this. In fact, there’s theoretically a universe where he already has.
So chill.
And Emerson, keep doing you bud. No pressure. At least until I finish Ozark and get really bored. Like really really bored. Then I’m coming for you. Get it together, Emerson.