Despite my continued efforts to better you by yelling at you through a microphone to do better, it is often difficult -- and thus disheartening -- to figure out if any of you damp piles of mulch are actually improving.

I found the answer, in all places, in one of the insipid gun-themed women's magazines Miss Pauling leaves lying around, where I stumbled on an article about self-improvement. It was a revelation: Instead of screaming at you to improve, I could scream at you while you improved yourselves.