Remember:  When they drop dead, we get the hell out of here.

My Fellow Americans,

The debate over gun control has engaged both the lawmakers and citizens of this great country for many a year, and though I've been reticent on joining in that debate, it does not mean this issue has not been of concern to me. After giving the matter much contemplation, which has included a thorough investigation of both legal precedent and emotional considerations, I have finally formulated a conclusion. Not only do I believe that there should be no legal restrictions on a citizen's right to possess a handgun, I believe there should be no restrictions whatsoever on any firearm at all. I believe that if the serious collector wanted to add to his collection nuclear warheads, and he could afford to do so, then the government should not stand in his way.

I concede to the argument of my esteemed colleagues that a nuclear warhead could conceivably kill and maim hundreds of thousands of people. However, that is the price of freedom. We mustn't let our fears, fears which very well may be unfounded, erode our Constitutional rights. Our citizens have the right to protect themselves. That argument is clearly stated in the Constitution. Should we, as God-fearing Americans, be limited to how much protection we need?

I will further argue that hundreds of thousands of people are being killed and maimed already through the indiscriminate use of perfectly legal handguns. Whether people are killed singularly or collectively, by one person or by many, should make little or no difference.

This is not, however, a debate about safety. It is a debate about freedom. Our ancestors -- our forefathers -- gave their lives to assure every American the freedoms that we have. Today our brave soldiers stand prepared to give their lives as well. We are all Americans, and as such, we should all be prepared to make sacrifices for freedom. For what would this great country of ours be without the freedom of speech? The freedom of religion? And the freedom to bear arms, no matter how large those arms might be?

Thank You,

Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch

No.  You hang up first. 

 

An Open Letter from the Honorable Leonard K. Bullfinch

My Fellow Americans,

I, Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch, am proud to announce that I have been chosen as the honorary spokesman for the NRA - the National Rattlesnake Association.

As Americans, we are all blessed with certain inalienable rights. We have the right to say what we darn well want when we darn well want to say it. We have the right to worship wherever and whatever we so please, be it Baptist or Methodist. And we have the right to defend ourselves from those who would want to take these rights, these freedoms, away from us.

And there is no better way to defend ourselves than by owning and carrying live rattlesnakes. Therefore, I urge all Americans to become a member of the National Rattlesnake Association.

As a member of the National Rattlesnake Association, we believe that every citizen has the right to protect himself and his family, be that threat real or imaginary. We further believe that there is no better way to protect yourself than with a live rattlesnake. After all, what could be more American than a rattlesnake? And a rattlesnake is more effective than a handgun, in that it doesn't need to be aimed, it won't show up on a metal detector, and should you ever be incapacitated or caught unawares, it will act on its own. As well, it never needs to be reloaded. Think of the money you will save every year on bullets alone. And then there is the peace of mind that a price cannot be placed upon.

Just the thought that you may be carrying a concealed rattlesnake should make any would be villain think twice. And should someone want to break into your home, knowing that there could be a rattlesnake coiled behind your home entertainment center would make any burglar wish he'd gone to trade school instead. Indeed, that burglar would have no idea where that snake might be hiding. And let me tell you, any rapist is going to think twice before exposing any of his more delicate body parts, not knowing just where that snake might be. That sort of peace of mind is something that every man owes his wife and his family.

There are those who counter that rattlesnakes are inherently dangerous, especially if you have children or pets living in the home. To them I say, "Poo." First of all, a rattlesnake is all the pet you will ever need. And children can be taught not to play with it, just as they can be taught not to play with handguns. And if you line a playpen with Plexiglas, why, there's no way that snake is going to get in there. As an added bonus, you will no longer have to worry about rodents and other vermin in your house.

Therefore, I urge every God fearing American to join the National Rattlesnake Association.

Your membership includes:

Your very own live rattlesnake, guaranteed to be at least three feet long, which will be delivered inside of your home absolutely free of charge.
You will also receive an official decal you can place in the rear window of your car or on the front door of your home to let would be thieves know they'd better think twice before they go after your stereo. And you will get our semi-monthly newsletter, "Recoil," that will keep you updated on current legislation, local rattlesnake clubs, and other information vital to being an informed citizen. As well, you will receive discounts from our catalogue on such items as National Rattlesnake Association apparel and NRA snake bite kits. And if you order by the Fourth of July, you will receive your very own NRA snake tongs, suitable for handling rattlesnakes up to four feet long, or flipping burgers on your grill.

Joining is easy. Just send 59.95, plus 38.50 for shipping, in care of Senator Leonard K. Bullfinch to the Holy Grail Press. Sorry, cash only. And before you know it, you will have your very own rattlesnake curled up somewhere in your home, protecting you and your loved ones from all the evil in the world.

Thank you, and may God bless you and all true Americans.

 

Why I Hate My Job:  Interview #443:  Smell-a-Tech

I work for Smell-a-Tech.  They... they sell deer urine.  I bottle it.  Both from the buck and the doe.  They can tell.  People buy it so the deer won’t smell them in the woods, or so the deer will think it’s another deer.  And then they can shoot them, I guess.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to bottle deer urine?  And you want to know why I hate my job.

"Amazing navigational skills" my ass.  Admit it.  We're lost. 

Paint Machine

Miles mixed paint.
You know,
he ran one of those machines
that put little squirts of colour
in a can of white paint,
and then after he shook it up
it'd come out out being this colour
that had nothing to do
with any of the colours that it was before.

Not that it's magic or anything.
I mean, they have this little book
that tells you just exactly how many squirts to squirt
when the customer finally makes up her mind.

Miles also waited on customers.
He didn't run a cash register or anything like that;
he just marked the price on the top of the can
and then somebody up front rang it up.

Not like it really would've mattered anyway
if they would've let him run the cash register.
Miles would've hated his job just the same.

You see,
Miles hated his job
because it was something that any idiot could do.
There was no intellectual challenge.
And the more Miles thought about it,
the more he became convinced
that a machine could do his job
just as well.

So that's just what Miles did.
He made himself a robot.

Oh, don't get me wrong;
it was a really lame robot.
He started with an old self-propelled lawnmower
and worked up from there.
The body was a worn-out shop vac,
and the only arm it had was the hose.
The head was this pathetic bowling ball
that he bought at a garage sale,
and on top of that bowling ball he had duct-taped an old video camera
and then painted this really stupid looking face.
He tried the best he could to make it look human
by sticking clothes on it.
You know, like his blue work smock
with his name badge stuck on it.
But it still looked like a pile of junk
that got caught in a clothesline.

But it worked.
It really worked.

He'd wind it up or whatever,
and it would go into work
and put in eight hours a day,
overtime if it had to.

And the people down at the store bought it.
Or they just didn't care.
None of the customers seemed to mind, either.
Why should they?
I mean, as long as their paint came out the right colour?
And once every other week
they'd send a pay check home with the robot.

Nothing went haywire with the robot.
It didn't go berserk and kill all the customers
or get a conscious and want Miles to share the money,
or anything like that.

The paint store never wised up
and made robots of their own
so that they could stop paying Miles to stay home
while his robot did all the work.

Miles never got depressed
because he'd replaced himself with a machine.

In fact, pretty much of nothing happened at all.
Miles just stayed at home and watched TV all day,
which seems kind of boring,
but who am I to judge?

Friday the Thirteenth

Today, Friday, May 13, 2022, is, as the name implies, a Friday that, by chance, falls on the 13^th day of the month (and, yes, all those commas are used correctly).  It seems the idea of Friday the Thirteenth comes from earlier superstitions that both the number 13 and Friday are unlucky.  When they come together… what do you suspect?  Or perhaps it stems from the idea that celestial events that fall on arbitrarily numbered days portend some sort of cosmic sign.

 

In many cultures, 12 represents a “complete” number.  After all, it is the smallest number that can be divided by 2,3, & 4.  Think of all the things we know that come by the dozen – months, hours, inches, apostles, the 12 tribes of Judaism, the 12 gods of Olympus, dice, donuts, and eggs.  Thirteen… just mucks things up.  As well, there are even old Norse and Jewish legends that say if 13 people dine, then one of them is going to die.  A good thing to keep in mind when inviting people to your Friday the 13^th parties.  Just consider the Last Supper from Christian mythology.  It was on a Friday, and there were 13 present.  Why it is referred to as Good Friday is beyond me.

 

And Friday is unlucky because… well, it just is.  Really, nobody seems to have cared about Friday the 13^th before the 19^th century.  The earliest record in the English language of Friday the Thirteenth being unlucky is that of a British journalist in 1869, but since then we’ve developed all sorts of phobias.

 

“The fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia (Frigga being the name of the Norse goddess for whom ‘Friday’ is named and triskaidekaphobia meaning fear of the number thirteen).”  Of course, not everybody sees Friday the 13^th as unlucky. The Chinese, for instance, believe the number 13 is lucky.  But then, there are those who believe that it is unlucky to be Chinese.  Seriously:  Chinophobia is the fear of Chinese people, Chinese customs, and anything else Chinese.  As far as that goes, there a phobia for fearing American:  Amerophobia.  But why stop there?  Xenophobia is pretty much the fear of everybody who isn’t you, and Autophobia is the fear of yourself.  And then there’s Panophobia:  The fear of everything.

 

So is Friday the 13^th really unlucky?  According to a study done in Britain, there are actually fewer accidents on Friday the 13^th than other random combinations of week days and days of the months.  But that could be because, as the study pointed out, fewer people leave their homes on Friday the 13^th, and on that day, overall, people tend to be more cautious.

 

Me?  I think I’ll err on the side of caution and stay in the house all day.

 

By the way, it would be a rare year that didn’t have at least one Friday the Thirteenth.  That one Friday the Thirteenth in 2023 will be in January… on the 13th.

 

 

Work Cited

 

“Amerophobia.”  2011.  Boredom Relief.  11 Jan. 2012.  http://www.blifaloo.com/info/phobias.php

 

“Chinophobia.”  2011.  Boredom Relief.  11 Jan. 2012.  http://www.blifaloo.com/info/phobias.php

 

 “Friday the 13^th.”  27 Dec. 2011.  Wikipedia.  30 Dec. 2011.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Friday_the_13th

 

“The Phobia List.”  17 July 1995.  phobialist.com.  11 Jan. 2012.  http://phobialist.com/

 

“What Phobia is the Fear of Yourself?”  2012.  Answers.com.  11 Jan. 2012.  http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_phobia_is_the_fear_of_yourself

 

“Why Friday the 13^th is Unlucky.”  2012.  About.com.: Urban Legends.  11 Jan. 2012.  http://urbanlegends.about.com/cs/historical/a/friday_the_13th.htm

Bob no longer felt quite so sanctimonious about being a vegetarian. 

The Bell Tower

Cloistered,
high above the churchyard,
the old monk sat alone,
reading from his gold bound bible
in the softly fading glow
of his slowly burning candle,
scratching with his quill,
"Deus Leges Dei Hominibus."

The soft night mist
fell silently on the window,
slowly rolling down the saints,
leaking through the ceiling -
dripping, dripping, dripping -
into the chalice
set in the corner to catch it.

A nighthawk,
feathers ruffled in the rain,
returned to her nest
in the crevice
where the bell used to be
with food for its young.
And without thinking,
returned to the wind
above the waves
breaking from the sea.

The History of the Future:  Sabermetrics and the Demonstrative Display of Faith

Sabermetrics, the use of statistical analysis in baseball to evaluate the performance of players, had been around since the end of the 20^th Century.  It was in the summer of 2027 that Billy Crudesky, a sports writer for Weasel Sports, applied Sabermetrics to demonstrative displays of faith in professional baseball.  He sought to find out how players who crossed themselves before batting, pointed to the sky after getting a hit, said prayers before taking the mound, or other obvious displays of their religious beliefs actually performed relative to those players who did not.  What he found was startling.  Those players who publicly demonstrated their faith did far worse than other players.  Batters were found to hit, on an average, a full forty points lower than those players who did nothing more than warm up.  Base runners were thrown out more often, and less likely to score.  Pitchers had a higher ERA, walked more batters, and lost, on an average, five more games per season.  And fielders averaged more errors and made fewer marginal plays than those who simply did nothing.  By the end of the 2027 baseball season, Crudesky reported that demonstrative displays of faith had completely disappeared from professional baseball.