DUE TO CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND OUR CONTROL …

 

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… WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT MR. COPE’S CAVE WILL NOT BE OFFERING THE USUAL MONDAY MORNING BLOG ENTRY, AS MR. COPE HAS NOT PROVIDED US WITH ANY NEW MATERIAL TO POST.

WHEN THE STAFF ARRIVED FOR WORK THIS MORNING AND FOUND NOTHING IN THE SCHEDULING BIN, WE REPEATEDLY TEXTED MR. COPE FOR AN EXPLANATION, WITH NO RESPONSE.

EVENTUALLY, AN INTERN SUGGESTED THAT PERHAPS TEXTING MR. COPE WAS THE WRONG APPROACH, AS HE DOES NOT POSSESS ANY DEVICE ON WHICH HE MIGHT RECEIVE THOSE TEXTS.

AFTER LEAVING SEVERAL MESSAGES—UNANSWERED—IN MR. COPE’S VOICE MAIL, IT WAS DECIDED THAT A DELEGATION SHOULD PROCEED, IN PERSON, UPSTAIRS TO HIS OFFICE/BED ROOM COMPLEX AND DETERMINE IF HE 1) HAD MERELY FORGOTTEN TO CLICK “SEND,” 2) HAD OVER-SLEPT, OR 3) WAS DEAD.

WE ARE PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT MR. COPE IS NOT DEAD. HOWEVER, HE DOES SEEM TO BE INCAPACITATED IN SOME MANNER WE HAVE NEVER BEFORE ENCOUNTERED. WE FOUND HIM CURLED UP IN HIS FAVORITE BEANBAG CHAIR, WRAPPED TIGHTLY IN A GREEN AFGHAN, WITH HIS OLD DELL DESKTOP IN HIS LAP AND THE MOUSEPAD ON HIS CHEST. HE IS UNRESPONSIVE TO ANY OF OUR ATTEMPTS TO COMMUNICATE WITH HIM, OTHER THAN TO ASK US REPEATEDLY IF WE KNOW WHERE “IT” IS AT.

“WHERE’S IT AT? WHERE’S IT AT?” HE DRONES, WHILE STARING BLANKLY INTO THE COMPUTER SCREEN JUST INCHES FROM HIS FACE.

SEEMINGLY IN SOME SORT OF NEAR-CATATONIC STATE, HE IS MOUSING RAPIDLY BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THE “HUFFINGTON POST” SITE AND NATE SILVER’S “FIVETHIRTYEIGHT.COM” AS THOUGH HE EXPECTS ANY SIGNIFICANT CHANGES TO OCCUR ON EITHER SITE IN A 30-SECOND SPAN.

WE ARE CURRENTLY TRYING TO DETERMINE HOW SERIOUS HIS CONDITION IS. WE HAVE LOCATED HIS WIFE, INTENDING TO ASK HER IF SHE HAS SEEN THIS SORT OF BEHAVIOR OUT OF MR. COPE BEFORE.

UNFORTUNATELY, IT SEEMS THE CONDITION HAS SPREAD TO HER. SHE IS LYING ON A SOFA IN ANOTHER ROOM, MANICALLY SCROLLING THROUGH HER I-PAD, SEARCHING FOR ANY POLLING DATA THAT MIGHT HAVE DEVELOPED IN THE LAST THREE MINUTES.

WHEN ASKED IF WE COULD DO ANYTHING TO MAKE HER MORE COMFORTABLE, SHE COULD ONLY SAY, WITHOUT TAKING HER EYES OFF THE I-PAD, “WHERE’S IT AT?”

WE HAVE CALLED THE OFFICE OF THEIR FAMILY DOCTOR TO INQUIRE WHAT MIGHT BE DONE, BUT THE RECEPTIONIST THERE INFORMED US THAT THE DOCTOR HAS YET TO SHOW UP TO WORK THIS MORNING, WITH NO EXPLANATION AS TO WHY.

THEY ARE SENDING AN INTERN TO HIS HOUSE TO SEE WHAT THE PROBLEM MIGHT BE.

WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE THIS DISRUPTION TO YOUR INTERNET SURFING ROUTINE. HOPEFULLY SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN SOON THAT WOULD SHAKE MR. AND MRS. COPE OUT OF THIS STRANGE STUPOR, AND WE CAN RETURN TO OUR REGULAR SCHEDULE.

PLEASE ENJOY THE MUSICAL INTERLUDE WE HAVE PROVIDED FOR YOU IN LIEU OF ANYTHING ELSE TO ENJOY THIS MORNING. AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.—THE MANAGEMENT

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