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John IX

A cucumber appeared to me in dream and started talking to me, which was strange because I hadn't even noticed it before, much less asked it a question. It was a nice cucumber, as cucumbers go, but it was odd that it didn't think of itself as a cucumber, but rather as a pickle, which it definitely was not, but I did not have the heart to tell the old guy the truth; he was not a pickle much less a kosher dill! MEH! Anyway, this pickle said things to me like "seed seed sour dill seed," or as we say in English, "Was'up bro? Like why are ya so scared of de anti-meh? They ain't no thing!"

I responded that the followers of the anti-meh seemed determined, especially Dale. He seems not to understand the preciseness of the word, the true meaning, the tangent to the curve at point B; none of these things did he know! He did not understand why we speak MEH, why, why, why! This pickle (which wasn't a pickle but more like a cucumber with an identity crisis though he did seem to talk like a pickle, but I didn't want to be rude and bite him to find out so I just played his game and called him a pickle,) this pickle said "Hell if I know, I'm just a pickle!"

At this point, C, a tangent to the circle is drawn through this point which is perpendicular to the line drawn from the vertex to the point B on the same circle, the pickle disappeared.

"Meh," I said. Nothing happened.

"MEH!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Suddenly a bottle of dill pickles appeared, with Dale stuck inside and pleading to be let out! My friend the cucumber, who rather fancied himself a pickle, smiled and winked at me.

Dale got his just reward, trapped in the jar of pickles until he understood the ways of MEH. The battle left the anti-meh, and the Word, Way, and Wisdom spread quicker than ever before. MEH can not be held in check, and its truth shall keep marching on.

MEH.