Ferris Wheels

I’m not hating on Ferris Wheels, but honestly, could they be any lamer? I’m pretty sure I was pumped to ride one of those in 1922, at the World’s Fair in Cleveland, but now? I get more excited at the thought of Real Sex 37 on HBO, where they do a feature on octogenarians who spend their time practicing mutual masturbation at nudist resorts. And I don’t get very excited about that. I’m not hating, I’m just saying…that that’s really gross.

You must have really wanted something to be named after you, George Ferris. Well, consider your wish granted. Now, whenever someone mentions your name, they think of the stupidest, least-fun ride in every amusement park on the planet. What an honor! Look, I’m sure you thought this idea would be cool whenever you were growing up in Bumfuck, Illinois, or wherever it is you’re from. But the idea of going nowhere – and slowly – doesn’t excite us civilized folk nearly as much.

When you first built the Ferris Wheel, in 1893, you did so because you wanted to invent something even more impressive than the Eiffel Tower, which had debuted four years earlier. Man, you sure came through! I know countless people who have planned vacations around visiting a Ferris Wheel. I’ve heard many stories of people proposing marriage underneath Ferris Wheels. Why wouldn’t they!? They’re so awesome!! Not lame at all!!! God...I hate Ferris Wheels so much, I hope you die. What? Oh. Fine. Well, I hope your children die. What? Damn it, okay. Well then, I hope all your grandchildren die! What? Seriously? Damn it, you lived a long time ago. Let's just move on.

I love eating Dippin’ Dots on a Ferris Wheel. Ice Cream of the Future, on the Ride of the Past. It balances out the universe, in some sad, pathetic way. That reminds me, I just got caller ID for my telegraphs. And I’m putting a tape cassette deck into my Time Machine. What a perfect match.

By the way, when you got that telegraph in 1892 from your principal investors, and it read, “You’re building a giant wheel that no one will enjoy STOP”…that didn’t mean there was a period at the end of the sentence. It meant you were an idiot and that you were destined to fail at life. At the bottom of your Wikipedia page, it has a list of all the “Notable Ferris Wheels.” There’s just one – the one that’s pictured in the dictionary next to “oxymoron.” Here’s a way to tell that your invention is obsolete: In 1893, the first rides on a Ferris Wheel cost fifty cents. Most things now cost 100 times more! For instance, a burger then was a nickel, now it’s five bucks. A ride on your “magic wheel of enchantment” then was fifty cents. Now? Against all economic odds, it’s down to a quarter. And people still get out feeling ripped off.

But no, seriously, it’s awesome that every time I pay 26 bucks to go to an amusement park, half the space is taken up by you and your longtime partner in boredom, the Merry-Go-Round. Jesus. Haven’t you guys long-since given up on your pipedream of being entertaining to young people? Shouldn’t you both be down in Florida, in a retirement home, where old people can ride you and say to each other, “Wow…I’m a 93 year-old man who’s scared of car rides…and even I think this is fucking boring.”

That’s right – you make old men swear. And that makes children cry. Because they’ve never heard Pap-Pap curse like a sailor before. So they get scared. And it scars them. Because they think it's their fault. And they think it's an angry world because they did something wrong, when they didn't - they were just second-hand victims to the pointlessness of Ferris Wheels. But this guilt-induced confusion leads to them losing an overall sense of right and wrong. So they go around committing petty crimes, setting themselves up for a lifetime of malcontent and lawlessness. And they grow up and become drug dealers, and prostitutes, and murderers. And the world becomes a nightmarish existence, one in which life is not even worth living, and most of us choose to kill ourselves, and ironically, we intend to do so by jumping off the top of a Ferris Wheel, but, quite appropriately, we die of boredom about a third of the way up. And so Ferris Wheels just become like an Elephant Graveyard for people who ran out of hope. Wheels of death. Giant Wheels of Misfortune, all over the world, reminding us how futile our petty existence is, and preventing us from achieving anything collectively as a race. All because Ferris Wheels are so shitty.

I’m not hating, I’m just saying.