Hey everyone. Mack here. I’ve managed to find a few spare moments in between recording my new spoken word folk album and attaching sleds to different kinds of animals in preparation for my race around the world against Daniel Day Lewis to sit down once again and answer some of your fan mail. I know what you’re thinking – “He said he might possibly read some of our letters one day, and he kept his word.” It’s a powerful gesture, so please take a moment to compose yourself and perhaps make amends to a long-estranged family member before reading on. I too would be stunned and inspired by my own relentless nobility had I not transcended human emotion long ago to exist in a spectrum of positive energy. I do have to step outside of the spectrum every so often to attend kale parenting seminars, and whenever I want sushi, because GrubHub only delivers to physical addresses.
Today’s letter comes from Daniel Mendel, who writes: “Hey Mack, What’s the wildest premonition you’ve ever had? How would you explain that sort of experience?”
Well Daniel, first of all, let me say thank you so much for your question. It’s not very often that people take the rare opportunity to speak with me and waste it on two sentences that in no way congratulate me on my power and success as both a Hollywood legend and a paragon of human enlightenment. You’re a brave soul, and that deserves recognition. (Remember, brave souls look their best while wearing a Bunny Ears™ t-shirt, so head on over to the store and get yours!)
Now, to answer your question, I have premonitions all of the time. As a spiritual being of light, it’s a near-daily occurrence. But by far the wildest vision I’ve ever had, so jarring and powerful that it remains as fresh in my mind today as the day it occurred, was while watching Blank Check at the Galleria in February of 1994. Full disclosure, I had been approached to star in the film, but I’d heard that the Tool Time kid had passed on it, and Mack doesn’t eat Tool Time’s table scraps. I also passed on Tom and Huck, because there’s only one Huck Finn, and that’s Elijah Wood.
I had purchased every seat in the theater, as is my custom when I go to the movies because I value my privacy and I like to enjoy films with minimal distraction, so I was alone when plucky child hero Preston Waters accepts the titular blank check from the villainous Quigley (played by beloved character actor Miguel Ferrer, rest in paradise) to pay for his ruined bicycle, and that’s when I was struck by the most powerful premonition my metaphysical thought palace has ever experienced. I suddenly knew, with the same inarguable certainty that I know my iPhone X lock screen is a photograph of John Larroquette’s death scene in Richie Rich, that Preston was going to cash that check for way more than his bicycle was worth. “He’s going to cash that check for way more than that bicycle is worth,” I said aloud, and as those words echoed in the empty theater, I felt a tingling along my spine that I can only assume was the hand of the universe patting me on the back for so effortlessly receiving its transmission. And sure enough, Daniel Mendel, my premonition was correct – moments later, Preston strolls into the bank and cashes that blank check for one million dollars, which as you may know is enough for several bicycles. Realizing that the cosmos had already beamed all of the knowledge Blank Check had to offer directly into my mind, I stood up and walked out of the theater and never looked back. Preston Waters had nothing left to teach me.
Once again, Daniel, I want to thank you for your question, and for allowing me to impart some of the cosmic truth I’ve gained during my time in this sphere of existence. Unfortunately, I have to go for now (sleds don’t attach themselves to emperor penguins, after all), but I want you to know that I cherish the time we’ve spent here together talking about me. Keep sending those letters, and I promise that I will sit down again and respond to exactly one of them just as soon as I find myself with literally nothing better to do.
Dictated into a waterproof Dictaphone while exploring a sunken galleon at the reins of an orca sled team. Transcribed by the great Tom Reimann.