Wednesday afternoon went something like this for me, myself and I:

Me: “Let’s see. There’s Bush’s new ‘attack’ (for lack of an accurate term) on immigration.”

I: “No, no. People are too stuck up to mow their own frickin’ grass so they pay Mexicans to do it because it’s cheap, then bitch about there being too many of them. Rich white folk are just worried about ‘others’ invading their neighborhoods — sound familiar? Mexicans just trying to make a decent living and live the opportunities that the people whose lawns they mow have already achieved… C’mon — give me something interesting.”

Myself: “What about the Duke lacrosse team?”

I: “Nah…not enough facts to deal with — pure speculation. Besides, it all boils down to a lying stripper or rich, white kids getting caught doing what they usually do because, well, they’re rich and white. Class. Race. Privilege. Durham. Blah, blah, blah… Didn’t either of you ever think there’s no coincidence that one of the most prominent schools in the nation is in one of the most economically split cities in the state? Rocks are hard. Water is wet. Power is unbalanced across racial lines. We can thank Columbus for that one.”

Me: “OK, OK, I got it — what about this whole thing with Iran’s nuclear development?”

I: “Let’s quit fooling ourselves. Bush, being the magnificent ‘go-getter’ that he is, is going to invade it eventually. Bushes have attacked almost all of their neighbors — might as well cross them off the list, too. It’s only a matter of time.”

Myself: “I, you’ve just got it all figured out, don’t ya?”

I: “Nope. I just pay attention. Kinda like how you suck at coming up with ideas.”

Me: “What about something a little closer to home — like Will Quick getting elected student body president, the success of the lottery, the Hillsborough Hike…?”

I: “Sorry… dozed off there — what’d you say?”

Myself: “Or do a farewell column. You know — like everyone does before they leave a newspaper.”

I: “OK. You mean something like this? ‘Fellow future alumni. You’re not going to remember me next week, but I just want for you all to treasure each and every moment you have in college because you’ll have never have a college experience again. I love you all! BFF!'”

Me: “Take the blonde-preppiness out of it.”

I: “OK, here goes: ‘What up suckas! Time for me to peace out this mo’ fo’ and go to where da big dollaz and big booties is at! Wolfpack or die, beeeeeaaatch!’

“How was that?”

Myself: “A little too… um… 2Pac slash DMX slash white guy trying to be black whose only ‘booty’ and ‘big dollaz’ experience comes vicariously from Nelly videos.”

Me: “Maybe we should scratch the farewell column idea…”

I: “All right, Me — what do you suggest then?”

Me: “Um…”

Myself: “Hey, I got an idea. What about doing a column about the three of us trying to come up with column ideas?”

Me: “Yeah, that could be funny! You could structure it like a conversation between three typical people. But it would be funnier because we’re all the same person — get it? Like you would be saying ‘you’ but there wouldn’t be a ‘you’ per se, since it would only pertain to the person you were talking to, like ‘Me’ or ‘Myself’ — that would be hilarious!”

Myself: “Yeah! And when I said ‘I’ it would be funnier because there is no ‘I’ since I is the one talking!”

I: “Both of you — retards. Besides, who would want to read something so stupid?”

Me: “Dunno — just thought it would be funny.”

I: “See, these things I write — they are supposed to inform people of something, give them something to think about, offer alternatives, provide perspective, guide people toward a way where we can all live peacefully.”

Myself: “Idealist. You’re the retard.”

I: “Is it really so idealist? What if, instead of everyone walking around thinking about all the crap they gotta do, instead they said to themselves, ‘I’m going to smile to every person I see today, no matter what.’ How hard is that?”

Myself: “That’s fine and dandy, but who’s gonna read your column and then actually do something so corny?”

I: “Probably no one. But I come up with all these ridiculous ways of presenting information in hopes of it landing to the point where someone actually does it. Not so they’ll do what I say — but because it’ll actually benefit people.”

Me: “Hm…”

Myself: “Good luck with that. I’m gonna go grab a beer.”