You Can’t Teach The World A Lesson

My reaction to the London bombings is one of detached, but sad amusement. These terrorist attacks make me think of when as a child, I would stick firecrackers into anthills. The blast would kill or injure a few ants, make the rest of the ants run around in a frenzy, then give them something interesting to work on in rebuilding their anthill. The difference with these suicide bombers is that it’s more like tying a firecracker to your finger, lighting the fuse, and sticking your firecracker-finger into the anthill.

I gave up terrorizing anthills when I was about ten. These Arab terrorist suicide bombers don’t have much more morals or maturity than a ten year-old, or intelligence than a ten year-old who ties a firecracker to his finger.

If you don’t like an anthill, and it’s not on your property, then it’s best to just leave it alone. If it’s on your property, and it’s a problem, then that’s a different story. But firecracker attacks don’t solve the problem.

They’ll attack New York City, Madrid, London, but they never attack Small Town, USA. I feel safe.

Something else that I learned when I was a child is to place the blame appropriately. Someone stole something of mine in grade school, and I got in trouble for beating up an innocent kid out of spite. Meanwhile, whoever did it was happy that they got away with it. I hate practical jokes. But you can’t teach the bully a lesson by beating up innocent kids.

Om Sri Angarakaya Namaha

Death Ray

I loaned my spotlight to Sam. Yeah. The 2,000,000 candlepower one.

I’ll bet he was out there, burning holes and writing his name in the grass. Lighting trees on fire. Incinerating dogs. Blinding the carriers for the other paper. Making birds burst into flame in mid-flight. Silhouetting couples making love inside their houses.

You could give the young women the alien abduction experiences.

“And then there was this real bright light. And then I was floating in the air. And there were these strange little men, with big round shiny heads. And they took me up to their spaceship. And there were thousands and thousands of these orange and blue sacks filled with larvae. Then the larvae all turned into newspapers. Then I woke up in bed, all sweaty.”

Om Sri Angarakaya Namaha