Mediocrity Defined and Embodied.

Hello, I’m mediocrity. Welcome to my workshop.

I’m the soggy bland burrito you had for lunch last week. The one with the messed-up meat-to-filling ratio. Not to mention it falls apart after each bite.

The off-white, ill-fitting t-shirt with the itchy collar that you hardly ever wear anymore, yet stop short of tossing.

The bruised banana that is too squishy to eat but not squishy enough to make banana bread.

The gray hazy day that while vaguely depressing, but noncommittal. It acts like it might bring rain but is too indecisive and basically serves no purpose.

Unremarkable-ness. Forgettable-ness. Thou art qualities of mine.

You encounter me in life every single day. And I am never accused of causing you or anyone else to raise an eyebrow. Ever.

The second baseman that hits .245 with 7 home runs, and bats 8th in the lineup. Yet still plays everyday because the manager hasn’t gotten around to finding anybody better.

The book report that gets a C. Not a B- or an D+. Completely and totally exceptional in achieving sheer average-ness.

Generic and unimpressive, yet I am the cornerstone of our society; absolutely integral to our intricate system of evaluating and distinguishing things of quality from absolute junk.

Mediocrity is valuable? How can that be?

Simple.

I am no-man’s land. The marker between two extremes. Limbo. A nebulous demilitarized zone existing between excellent and terrible, expensive and cheap, beauty and ugliness.

And in that sense, my mediocrity is owed a debt that can never be repaid.

I am candy corn and oatmeal cookies. JJ Abrams and David Spade. Accountants. Macy’s. Sherbet. USC basketball. Fritos. New Balance shoes. Ikea furniture.

Not without use, even functional in a pinch, and mostly notable only for being neither great or terrible.

Given a choice, you go with something better.

Since I am mediocre, and mediocrity, I recognize myself everywhere. Which I will do with this blog. Point out mediocrity in all of it’s forms, especially in cases in which it is disguised, I will lift the veil.