Someone Else's Book Club: Meet Simon Tybalt

 

Today's post promoting "Someone Else's Book Club" was written by Simon Tybalt, Founder & CEO of Corporate.

***

Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t usually write blog posts. Not my style. I’m more of a barstool philosopher, napkin sketch visionary type of guy. But someone told me this helps “engagement” and, well, Corporate loves engagement. Almost as much as lawsuits.

“Try not to suck”—people think it’s just a joke I mutter when I’m late to meetings or accidentally fax my lunch order to my favorite gentlemen's club in Phoenix. But no, it’s a philosophy. A guiding star. A Corporate-approved life hack. We can’t all be heroes. Most of us barely qualify as competent. But if you can wobble your way through the day with a 60% success rate and avoid setting the copier on fire, then congratulations—you’ve achieved the Tybalt Standard. Try not to suck, and if you do suck, try not to make it noticeable.

Now, about this book you’re all jabbering about—Someone Else’s Book Club. It does not suck. Here’s the thing: you probably think it’s just a novel. A little comedy, a little sci-fi, a little “Ha-ha, the Herpezoids are trying to eat our brains again.” Cute. But you’d be wrong. Because this book? This book is a manual. A field report. A warning label nobody reads until you've been turned into a flying Herpezoid who chugs cream of celery soup straight from the can.

Kevin Raulston—the bookstore guy—he’s not a hero. He’s not even reliable transportation. He’s just a dude who tripped headfirst into the Herpezoid mess and decided to point a Multiblaster at it. That’s the real lesson here: sometimes saving the world looks like bad poetry, food addiction, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

And Corporate? Don’t get me started. We’re not villains. We’re managers. Thought leaders. Big difference. Villains are efficient. Managers fill out the wrong paperwork, lose the receipt, and save the day accidentally.

It’s like sports, right? Picture Kevin as the quarterback, except he’s also the goalie, and somehow he’s holding a tennis racket. The Herpezoids are charging the mound—wait, no, that’s baseball—but you get it, they’re coming fast. And me? I’m probably the caddy, handing out golf clubs when nobody asked for them. Or the guy flirting with the cheerleaders. The ball—or maybe it’s a puck—bounces into the end zone, everybody dogpiles, someone yells “touchdown,” and suddenly we’re hoisting the Stanley Cup at the Super Bowl parade. That’s basically what saving the world feels like. What do you want from me? I didn't play sports growing up.

So read the book. Laugh at the aliens. Judge Kevin’s eating habits. But also remember this: you never know when your book club might become Earth’s last line of defense. And when that day comes?

Try not to suck.

– Simon Tybalt

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