Viewer Mail from the Void!

Every week, The Pompous Post receives hundreds of letters. (more like 6)  Some are emails. Some are handwritten. One arrived carved into a bar of soap... 

We don’t know where most of them come from. (actually, we do) We only know they keep coming. Week after week, month after month... without fail. 

Below is a curated selection from this week’s Viewer Mail from the Void.(trademarked btw) Messages sent by readers who may or may not exist, seeking guidance that may or may not help. 

As always, names have been changed to protect the innocent. And also, because some of them demanded titles and have cease-and-desist orders pending. 

LETTER #1: “Am I Allowed to Leave the House Without My Phone?” 

Dear Pompous Post, 
 
I forgot my phone at home yesterday and felt naked, feral, and possibly illegal. A woman at the grocery store asked me for the time, and I panicked. I responded, “A hair past a freckle? Hehe…” She looked at me like I touched her butt. Is it still socially acceptable to exist offline for more than 12 minutes? I need help… 
 
— Analog Andy, Ohio 

Response: 

Andy. 

First of all, congratulations… You briefly reentered the physical realm, a place with birds, clouds, and doors that make noise when you open them. 

Second, no… it is not socially acceptable to touch anyone’s butt, nor leave your home without your phone anymore. For any reason! What you did was the equivalent of wandering into traffic in your underpants, holding a sandwich. You're bound to get looks… 

Without your phone, you: 

• Cannot prove who you are 

• Cannot document mild injustices 

• Cannot confirm if a song exists 

• And worst of all, cannot pretend to text when you see someone you vaguely know 

In the future, if you forget your phone: 

1. Return home immediately. 

2. Or stand still until someone with a phone notices you. 

3. Or simply lie down and pretend to be “planking.” Apparently a thing like 10 years ago. 

Society forgives many things. This is not one of them. 

LETTER #2: “My Freezer Is a Museum of Regret” 

Dear Editors of Truth, 
 
I just found chicken breasts from 2019 and something labeled “SOUP???” in my freezer. Is there a point where frozen food becomes a historical artifact or a hazard? 
 
— Frostbitten Brenda 

Response: 

Brenda, your freezer is no longer an appliance. It’s a polar archive dear... And no, that Glad bag labeled “beans” is not beans anymore. Every freezer eventually reaches this phase, where food stops being “edible” and starts being: 

• A memory 

• A promise 

• A threat 

Items older than three years are no longer food. They are: 

• Emotional support leftovers. 

• Culinary fossils. 

• “Just in case” scenarios from a version of you who believed in ‘Prepping’. 

That soup was never meant to be eaten. It was meant to exist, quietly, as proof that at one point you had ambition enough to make it. 

Our advice: 

• Do not open it 

• Do not smell it 

• Do not ask follow-up questions 

Simply close the freezer and whisper, 
 
“I respect you… and your journey.” 

LETTER #3: “Why Does Junk Mail Know Me Better Than My Family?” 

Dear Void, 
 
I receive mail congratulating me on my business success, my recent accident, my lottery winnings, and my exciting opportunities in vinyl siding. My own relatives don’t even text. Should I start responding to the mail now? 
 
— Chosen One, Arizona 

Response: 

Yes. 

The junk mail sees you. It honors the sacrifices that you have made over your lifetime and is now paying you back! (probably not) 

Your family remembers you selectively. 
 
The mail remembers you professionally. 

It knows: 

• You are a homeowner (emotionally, in spirit and aspirationally). 

• You are moments away from needing different car insurance. 

• You may have been injured, blessed, or both. 

• And you are absolutely ready to refinance something you do not own. 

We recommend writing back. Thank them and ask how they’ve been. Inquire if the “urgent notice” misses you when you don’t respond. Eventually, they may invite you to join them or issue a restraining order. Either way, you now have a cool hobby! 

LETTER #4: “I Accidentally Became a Manager” 

Dear Pompous Post, 
 
I showed mild competence once and now people ask me questions. I did not consent to leadership. How do I undo this? 
 
— Reluctant Randall 

Response: 

Randall, this is how it happens. You answered an email. You didn’t panic in a meeting. You used the phrase “we should circle back” without irony. Now you are responsible. 

There is no formal opt-out process, but there are tactics: 

• Speak exclusively in vague metaphors. 

• Refer to every decision as “above your pay grade.” 

• Say “Interesting…” and never finish the sentence. 

If that fails, simply disappear for two weeks and return saying, 
 
“Sorry, bandwidth issues.” This is corporate for rebirth. Trust us… 

LETTER #5: “Is It Normal to Be Tired of Everything?” 

Dear Editors, 
 
I’m not sad. I’m just… exhausted by appliances, updates, passwords, new browsers, crypto, stupid Tik-Tok dances and conversations that start with ‘Did you see that thing?’ Is this adulthood or a glitch? 
 
— Quietly Screaming, Everywhere 

Response: 

This is adulthood. 

You are not broken. You are a fully operational, adult carbon-based lifeform. 

Modern life requires: 

• 17 passwords 

• 4 chargers 

• 2 opinions you didn’t ask for. 

• And constant awareness of things you cannot fix. 

The correct response is not panic. It is controlled detachment… 

You are allowed to: 

• Not watch the thing 

• Not have a take 

• Not optimize your morning 

Sit quietly. Stare at nothing. Let your brain reboot like an old router or 1966 Chevy truck that sat for a month. If anyone asks what you’re doing, say: 
 
“Processing...” 

LETTER #6: “I Think My Pet Is Judging Me” 

Dear Pompous Post, 
 
My cat watches me work from home like I’m a failure in a documentary. It’s very unsettling and the cat is clearly judging… Is this normal? 
 
— Observed, Oregon 

RESPONSE: 

Yes. 

Pets see you as: 

• A roommate with no fur. 

• A food source with anxiety. 

• A creature who does not hunt. 

Your cat remembers when humans were gods. Now it sees you merely as a fleshy food dispenser. This is not judgment. It is disappointment with context. It owns the space, you… are a squatter. 

LETTER #7: “What If I’m the NPC?” 

Dear Void, 
 
Everyone else seems like a main character. I feel like I exist to hold doors and say ‘no problem.’ Am I an NPC? 
 
— Background Character #47 

Response: 

Good news friend, you are not an NPC. You are an advanced side character. The kind audiences love because you’re calm, observant, and not constantly chasing relevance. 

Main characters burn out. Side characters survive. Also, NPCs don’t question reality. You did! Which means you’re already dangerous. 

FINAL NOTICE FROM THE VOID 

Thank you to everyone who wrote in. 

Please note: 

• We cannot return mail sent via whispers or ‘vibes’. 

• We do not accept cursed objects. 

• And we are not legally responsible for advice taken seriously. 

More letters arrive every day. (not really but it's fun to pretend) Some ask for help. Some ask for validation. One just says “HELLO?” in different fonts or letters cut from design magazines. (which is seriously getting creepy) 

If you feel compelled to write… Go ahead. The Void is listening. And it writes back!