We do not respect electricity on this continent anywhere near as much as we should. I blame light switches. How will people learn the proper level of fear for electrical power if activating it only takes the flip of a dinky little mechanism that is smaller than the finger that flips it? The current state of electrical affairs must be remedied. It has already gone on for far too long. We are losing this battle.
This is why I plan to install those huge switches you see in old horror and sci-fi movies all over my house. You know the ones shaped kind of like a blocky letter Y but with hinges on the top? Yeah those. They may not go with my decor but I do not care. If I have to, I will go down to the hardware store and pick up replacement switchplate and outlet covers to match their patina. Yes, I am that serious.
After I have installed the new switches, I will throw a huge party. It will be the social event of the season. I will invite my friends and family, of course, but the guest list will also feature local politicians, newscasters, self-help book authors - maybe even a marine biologist if I am able to swing it. Those types always liven things up. But I will have to be strict with who I allow in. If you lose your invitation, the bouncers will “escort” you right back out to the street. No messing around. I pay them well for their loyalty.
My party will begin in the front yard. I will have the hottest 90’s cover band performing all of my favorite tunes from that era. Not just grunge, mind you - all genres will be represented. My guests will be sucking down cold beers and spicy Eurasian cuisine. They will mix with each other in numbers large and small, exchanging pleasantries as they compliment my party-throwing skills. “Who knew he could pull off something like this?” they will ask, gesturing to the throngs of my sycophants surrounding them. The word "grandiose" will be bandied about. And all the while I will be looking down from my parapet. Unseen, yet smiling triumphantly.
But do not forget my true purpose here. Because when the party is at its peak, all the power will go out. The band will go silent (excluding the unamplified vocals and drums). It will still seem near-silent compared to the clamor heard just seconds earlier, though. The contrast will be drastic. And it will be dark. Only the light from the moon and stars, as well as the stately tiki torches lining the path to the drawbridge, will illuminate the setting.
People will be confused. They will not have any idea what to do. Deftly assuming the voice of one of my guests, I will shout, “Quick! To the front entrance!” The chattel will obey my suggestion and head across the moat and into my domicile, not knowing what lesson awaits them. Not even suspecting what is to come.
As they enter, meekly ducking within the unfamiliar surroundings, the partygoers will gather in the great hallway. Once the group settles down, I will enact my big reveal. Wearing only a taffeta jumpsuit and my most convincing scowl, I will shout, “TIME TO THROW THE SWITCHES!” I will then run around the expansive rooms of my palatial estate doing just that. The catwalks will be the most challenging. I never had them properly wired.
As electricity both visibly and audibly crackles to life, my frenetic energy will impress one and all. It will be infectious. And once my guests see the entire house illuminated with my mad scientist-style levers, a deep understanding will wash over them and all will be forgiven. They will nod, knowing what I taught them without needing to say a word. Then we will all settle into my home theater with THX-certified audio and stadium-style seating to watch a light comedy flick. Or maybe a documentary. But not something like “The Bride of Frankenstein”, because that would be way too obvious a choice at that point.
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