A Soap Opera

I love you Stop being such a moron It would be difficult to overstate the importance of communication, which is reason enough not to try. Like a soap opera, effective interpersonal communication is certainly no laughing matter, which is precisely what we had in mind as the first flakes of our brainstorm began to melt on the sidewalk. "What," we wondered in unison, "would be so wrong with farming out the mundane portions of our verbal exchanges, thereby freeing us up for more provocative transmissions?"

As is so often the case, the answer had been there all along; we were just too blind to see. However, having recently learned that soap in the eyes has more to do with technique than happenstance, we were able to recognize that the twin bottles of soap we had taken for granted might be pressed into service as our personal emissaries.

Every personal emissary deserves a proper name, which is why we decided that ours should be called Jabón and Soapapilla. In this way, we hoped to avoid the sort of ambiguity that results in even greater conflict than one had in the first place, which often happens when emissaries are uncertain about their own identities.

You really flip me out Wut? Today, as we glance over our shoulders at yesterday's primitive methods, it's difficult to remember what we were thinking when we said, "good morning," or "I love you." Today our soaps say those things for us, and they say other things, too.

"You really flip me out," says Soapapilla. "You're such a moron."

"What?" says Jabón.