Every now and then, I like to drive up into the mountains to my secret spot at the top of the world. Not only can you get a much better view of the smog up there, but it’s an ideal place to get inside of your navel; I mean, its quiet solitude is interrupted only by an occasional eagle slamming into nearby microwave dishes. Usually, the racket from the squawking, falling and dying eagle keeps other wildlife away, thereby allowing one to lose track of time and the pressures of life as he immerses himself into deep contemplation.
A soft pillow or cushion is absolutely essential to keep your buns from getting scratched on rocks and twigs. Picking a nice, sunny spot is another trick I learned long ago, because the cool air at mountain tops can cause goose bumps in the shady areas, particularly if there’s a northerly wind. One other necessity to make the day into a success is a baby pacifier. Once you get into your navel, you don’t want to get sucked back out by a bear looking for honey, so you pull the pacifier in after you to plug the navel opening shut.
Now, the journey begins.
“Do you suppose,” I ask aloud in the dark, moist silence, “that if Barbara Walters admits that she had an affair with a Senator many years ago, that means it is okay for mankind to be screwed by Congress?” I have always suspected that the cosmos connect all events in an orderly and meaningful manner which, upon inspection and retrospection, will reveal the ultimate secrets of the universe.
Moving along a little further into the dark recesses of my omphalos, I ask, “If Barack Obama says that he will never abandon his pastor and then he drops him like a hot potato just a week or two later, does that mean that all Democrats, (excluding the Clintons, of course), are heartless liars who won’t live up to their principles and who will turn on you faster than a snake?”
I know that I won’t get any answers to my questions until I reach the end of my journey to the innermost reaches of my interior umbilical canal. So, I continue, “If it is truly our fault that 9/11 happened, does that also mean that we are to blame for the increase in hurricanes, cyclones, earthquakes, volcanoes, pestilence, hunger, and bedbugs?”
“If our great President with the bobbing head declares that there are no signs of an economic downturn, and then says a week or so later that the economy is indeed sluggish and he’s trying to fix it, does that mean that he is a Democrat?”
“If Hillary says that she was under sniper fire in Bosnia and then fesses up later that she must have gotten her memories confused, does that mean that she was under sniper fire someplace else? Has she been hunting with Dick Cheney?”
“If they discovered drug trafficking and drugs all over
“If there were no weapons of mass destruction in
“If Saddam feared getting venereal diseases from his guards, does that mean he was gay?”
“If rice prices are at an absolute high, does that mean Condoleeeeeza is holding out for more money for the VP slot?”
“If you can create a diamond ring from the carbon and ashes of your deceased loved one and the value of the diamond is $5,000, but the value of the human body is only $4.50, would you have to pay capital gains tax on the diamond? Could you deduct mileage from your place to the jewelers?”
I hear a growing, groaning rumble coming from way down the other end of the umbilical tunnel.
“With oil inventories and oil supply actually increasing as the world’s economy slows down, why do the prices keep going up? Could that have anything to do with someone deliberately wanting prices to be high going into the November elections? Would the Democratically controlled U.S. Congress want to make the Republican President look bad so the Dems can win back the White House?”
“If all of those thousands of trailers manufactured for the Katrina victims are indeed filled with glue fumes and formaldehyde, could Bill Clinton and George H.W. Bush deliver them to
“If Jimmy Carter can make peace with Hamas, can he make peace between Barack and Hillary?”
“If the United States ever does seal its Mexican border against illegal aliens and terrorists, does that mean no one, especially terrorists, will try to cross the undefended, under-patrolled Canadian border?”
“Is it true that a suicide bomber takes 72 Viagras before he pulls the plunger so that he’ll be ready for his 72 virgins?”
Uh, oh. The growing rumbling is now a roar. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, YOU IGNORAMIC, HALFWITTED BUFFOON!” a thunderous voice echoes from the tunnel. “AND, DON’T EVER, EVER RETURN!” A rush of moist, warm air bellows toward me and I feel myself being pushed back from whence I came.
Dazed, I awaken in the sun with the pacifier lying at my feet. An eagle feather floats gently down in front of me. And I sadly observe that my navel has totally and absolutely disappeared. Apparently, I've just had the last of my navel contemplations.
Where’s the remote?
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