Who among us hasn't found herself alone in a dark, underground, parking garage in the middle of the night? It must be fairly common, because it's often the setting for a gruesome homicide in many a slasher movie. The ubiquitou
s garage of death is also the predominant image on the TASER Weapons Web site (image above). The TASER, as you know, is an electroshock weapon enjoyed by law enforcement, corrections officers, and Claude Van Damme. It incapacitates a "threat" [quotations needed] by administering 50,000 volts up to 15 feet, "with more stopping power than a .357 Magnum. Absolutely the best non-lethal protection for your home, business and auto," according to the manufacturer. In other words, it's bullets that kill people, not electricity, unless, of course, you step on the "third rail" or are on death row.
Now, there's a new consumer model called the TASER C2. It no longer looks like a gun and comes in four designer colors—pink, blue, black, and silver (pink shown here, although it looks purple to us). The Scout Report, in support of Second Amendment Lite, has provided each employee with a TASER C2 and holster in the color of her choice. Since TSR editors spend a lot of time alone in dark, underground, parking garages in the middle of the night, as well as unlighted basements and attics, we feel that the TASER C2 is their best defense, until the manufacturer comes out with a lethal version.
Revealing digression. TSR staff is a bawdy band of genteel snarks, oxymorons every one, so it seems natural that it would a adopt a motto—never an oath—to express TSR loyalty and, by extension, somehow justify the purchase of all those TASER C2s. Eventually, this cri de coeur could be downgraded to an informal toast and used to jump-start the daily editorial binge drinking, or perhaps it'll devolve into a hybrid, such as a toasting cri. Semper fidelis was taken, and, besides, it's too earnest. A good toasting cri needs some alliteration, but not too much ("rubber baby buggy bumpers"), and a lot of rhythm, in case TSR gets that long-awaited cabaret license. Predictably, that festive Musketeer shout-out came to mind: All for one, and one for all. A great buzz enhancer if ever there was one. Next, the TSR editorial board explored multilingual options, as a way to assume the appearance of worldliness without actually going anywhere. It's got a Gauloise poutiness when hissed in French—Un pour tous, tous pour un. Positively operatic in la bella lingua—Uno per tutti, tutti per uno. But alas, when belched in German, the ear hears only an unfortunate forced-march, Invade Poland!, dirge—Einer für alle, alle für einen. Egads.
The board finally decided to go with Latin, because it prefers a dead language to most of the living ones, and it looks impressive on a coat of arms or diploma. Who among us doesn't like the sound of Totus pro unus, quod unus pro totus. It tickles the vocal chords and can be used as a warning prior to firing the TASER C2. Furthermore, it's less restrictive than, say, something like E pluribus unum, which has an uncomfortable sectarian ring to it. Full board approval is needed before the toasting motto can receive official confirmation. The voting will take place during TSR's First Taser Festival next month on a remote farm in the Hamptons.
Jarring juxtapostion. "All for one, and one for all" is also, as unlikely as it seems, the unofficial motto of Switzerland. You'd think they'd yodel something like, "Neutralität und Uberpünktlichkeit!" Neutrality and punctuality.
