Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Faced With The Dodo's Conundrum
Responsibility is a real problem. Not that any of you would know because instead of doing the jobs for which you are being paid or watching the children you are charged with caring for or completing assignments given to you in the furtherance of your education, you--yes, you--are sitting around, staring at the computer screen, waiting for Clown Boy over here to tickle your funny-sphincters with the soft point of the Feather of Obvious Jokes.
Your dad was right about you. You'll never amount to anything.
There are people out there right now experiencing, doing, leading, putting themselves out there for the betterment of mankind.
Are you? You could be doing something. Anything. You can't, say, find out how to make regular human urine into a viable source of hydration in places where water is scarce? What, you don't have pots, a stove, maybe about four cups of sugar and a sieve in your house? Too busy waiting around for your political overlords at Daily Kos to give you your YouTube-watching marching orders to save all the people of Africa with the magical rejuvenating power of their own whizz?
Look, you don't have to take me literally. It doesn't have to be that exactly. And really, once I get the patent paperwork all squared away, you legally can't do that anyway. My lawyers will be in touch.
Even the normal bullshit reasons people give for being idle, like novel-writing or music or art; nobody thinks your sci-fi story about the invasion of "aliens" led by the evil space-overlord Beorge G. Wush will ever go anywhere and putting a drumbeat behind "Your Body Is A Wonderland", well, people just laugh at that, Timbaland. But bullshit effort is still effort.
Some people are out there making real sacrifices, doing real things to help real people in real ways.
What have you done, for instance, to help find a cure for the gay?
Nothing, right? Some odd pictures on the internet here and there, maybe making out with Timmy Barnes behind the handball wall during 7th grade gym class, but we've all done that. Normal part of growing up. What have you done to understand the gayness, to really lube it up so you can get as deep inside it as you can and release the seed of healing within?
We know, for instance, that methamphetamine is NOT the cure for homosexuality. We know it. People like Ted Haggard have gone the extra mile to prove it. He felt some gay coming on and decided, hey, I can fix this. I wonder if some meth will help?
Turns out not so much. But he was trying.
Then he decided that maybe the best way to cure gayness would be to actually participate in homosexual sex acts. Over and over and over again. Not in a personal way, like in a relationship, but in a clinical, scientific way with a man-whore, someone with the requisite experience to give gay sex in all its deliriously pleasurable forms without the complications of emotional attachments. Plus he totally knew where to score the meth.
But alas, that didn't work to cure the gay out of him either.
So he tried something else: public humiliation followed by secluded Jesus counseling. Turns out that that's EXACTLY the combination to cure the gay. Which is just in time for him because the next step was Scientology. And not everyone comes back from that.
Now that he's put himself out there, now that he knows the Path to Straightness, he is planning on moving out of Colorado to spread the gay-free message of Christ to new communities, possibly in Iowa or Missouri. Because ideally what you want is to go directly to the places where the meth is produced. You know, to warn the people cooking it up in their trailers in that vast empty space between St. Louis and Kansas City that it isn't going to cure gayness like they thought. And then maybe take some samples to a few of the neighborhoods in the larger cities, show the meth around, make sure the gays there know what to avoid. And then maybe start to work some of the gay out of them with a nice backrub.
Ted's working. He's contributing.
What will you do? What would Jesus do? You know, if he were gay. And a tweaker.
This post on the Narcissus Scale: 3.6