Slacktory

AAEG Evil Magician hat

The Evil Genie grants three wishes a week. Leave a wish in the comments!

RightOne wishes: I wish I could be a hologram like Tupac.

The Evil Genie replies: Okay, you’re a hologram, like Tupac. Here’s the thing about being careful what you wish for — sometimes we don’t even understand what we’re wishing for.

Sometimes, when we look at a happy couple and wish that we could have what they have, we don’t know that what they have is a miserable relationship where she feels unfulfilled and leaves drunk voicemails on her ex-boyfriend’s phone and he calls her “mustache” to his friends and tells his parents not to worry about him “settling down” anytime soon. Sometimes, when we think about a dream job we wish that we could have, we don’t know that the position entails such intense commitment, focus, and hard work that all other parts of that Vice President of Accounts or Senior Consultant or Captain of the Air Hockey Team’s life are basically memories, and that the inevitable failure tied to the position has crushed the careers of much more capable employees. Sometimes, when we wish we could be a hologram like Tupac, we don’t already know that Tupac is a hologram.

To be clear, Tupac Shakur is not dead. Rather, his spirit is trapped in a hologram machine. He can’t eat or sleep or bathe or sit — all he can do is flicker slightly, touching nothing. Why does he perform, instead of screaming out in anguish for someone to free him? The simple answer is that when he raps and dances and walks shirtless around Coachella, that is the only time anyone can see him.

He wasn’t always so pliable, so passive. The training that an evil magician (which, for the record, is an entirely different kind of evil magic than the kind evil genies possess, and our unions broke apart from one another millennia ago so stop looking at me like that) has to put a dead famous person through to get an effective hologram takes years.

Look, think about it this way: some guy named Dennis Gabor who seems to have no relation to any of the fabulous sisters won a Nobel Prize for holography in the seventies, and Tupac has been “dead” since 1996. WHAT TOOK SO LONG? I recall 1996 — my master was Katie Lee Gifford and she wished to have her own clothing line — and I remember EVERYONE saying, “Oh my god, Tupac is dead, when is he going to be a hologram already?” Well, he WAS! That year, he was kidnapped by the hellspun sorcerer Vladmoster, who saw the dangerous life that Tupac was living, and wanted to ensure that we would have the young poet forever. Vladmoster figured, what is sixteen or so Tupacless years compared to an eternity of rhymes? So he scooped the star up, fed his body into a hologramographer, and has spent the better part of two decades torturing, cajoling and Stockholm-syndroming the man into performing on cue.

At first Tupac fought back, but how could he fight when his fists were air? It was an epic battle for his life. He would promise to be good and then try to escape, and the horrible process would begin again. He would behave and rehearse, only to have Vladmoster question his sincerity and turn down his wattage out of punishment, or something. He also had to spend some time on costume design.

After years of solitude, Tupac is just happy to be seen by human eyes and to be near his old friends. Even if he can’t talk to or touch anyone. Even if he is forced to perform on demand and without his humanity, like a tiny ballerina in a music box. Even if rapping feels like a thousand knives in his tongue, which it does, because evil magicians are real jerks.

So, what does this mean for you? For Tupac, he is only free when he is on stage, the way that millions of fans have wanted to see him for years. I’m sure that with your eagerness to become a hologram, Vladmoster will have a much easier time molding you to behave as he pleases, but what would he like you to do? I can’t be so sure, RightOne, so I’m going to have to guess… commenting on blogs? You’ll be commenting on blogs forever as a ghost, or you’ll be getting savagely poked with obedience needles by a bored evil magician. Enjoy!

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