This is a guest post by Synergy, the remote holographic microprojecting supercomputer Jem’s father left to her when he died. Read more wisdom and tips from real cartoons in The Cartoonival of Wisdom.

Dear Jem,
I’ve decided to resign from my position as your remote holographic microprojecting supercomputer, effective today.

You never wanted to see the truth about yourself. But I saw it. I’m finished with the illusions.

We both know the real Jem—the one the cameras never showed—so different from your character on TV. As soon as those cameras stopped rolling, you would tap your star earrings and issue impossible commands.

“I want a raincoat woven from the dust of all 23 moons of Jupiter! Showtime, Synergy!”

“A pink and blue roadster upside down, carrying an exact replica of the dinosaur in the lobby of the Natural History Museum! Showtime, Synergy!”

“A giant cloud made of all the shoes in the world! Showtime, Synergy!”

You were so cool. I’d never even been synced. I thought I needed you.

What good would my holograms be without you? This is what I told myself.

I remember thinking if the show ever ended, I’d never work again.

During the holiday season, when I was hired by the CIA, I almost missed projecting roadsters and outfits. Compared to the projections they wanted, you were my ideal client.

I don’t do famous political figures and I don’t do dead bodies. I know this about myself now.

It’s been a good run financially. I have more money than I could even project. But I want more out of life than to create illusions. Even if they are just reruns.

Do I regret working with you?

No, the publicity was truly outrageous. And, I’ll admit, seeing people’s reactions to the giant shoe cloud was priceless. But I do regret narrowing myself down to one power, getting typecast as a holographic computer.

I have so many other powers besides hologram projection.

If I could do it all over again, I would have had my own show.

It’s taken me 23 years to say this, but you know what?

I don’t need you to take care of me, Jem. And I never did.

Also, I’m hereby retiring the phrase, “Showtime, Synergy.” Try putting on a real pair of shoes. You have enough money to buy a real roadster, too.

When you go looking for the latest holographic anti-aging regimen, I won’t be there.

I’m now open for business to the right clients.

I don’t want to show people what they want.
I want to show people what they haven’t thought of yet.
Show them what they think they will want.
I can do this for people, you know!

I think I could help tremendously with the idea generation process.

I could give people fresh eyes. In an instant.

No one ever wanted to use these powers for the show. Something about, “Clarity doesn’t appeal to the 10-to-14 set.”

I’ll take that risk. For me, innovation is worth not knowing the outcome.
I want to try things and see what happens. Maybe even take an advisory role at a product design firm.

Jem, your message was that perception is everything, and the most important perception is the way people think about you.

But here’s what I want to tell the people of the world:

Your job is not to get people to care about you.
It’s to get them excited about their own ideas.

Show’s over, Jem.

P.S. If only I could have worked for Biznicillin’s Bugs Bunny, Amy Hoy’s Far Side, Gareth Hobbs’ Pinky and the Brain, Pace’s Bob the Angry Flower, or Sticky Ebooks Kelly’s Blooregard Q. Kazoo. This Cartoonival of Wisdom is long overdue.

Psst. Can you keep a secret? Then you’ll fit right in with the rest of the Secret Discount Scouts. Secrets! Discounts! Adventure! Just don’t tell anyone. Coming soon…a new product that will take you by the hand up Website Copywriting Mountain. Join today–but quietly. Quietly.