Hi everybody! Sorry I've been gone so long. I should have mentioned before that I always lose computer privileges in January because it's the anniversary of my arrival to this lovely maximum security psychiatric facility. Well, it has more to do with the annual reenactment of the reason that I came here. That and my left eye. You see, 15 years ago I created my most glorious display of destructive art. On a Sunday night in January, a full moon in attendance, I blew up a 150,000 sq. ft. herring and sardine canning factory. Think of it! The burst of light brighter than epiphany! Sheets of tin siding as big as billboards spinning up and away like monster frisbees! Steel I beams tumbling through the air like boomerangs! But best of all, the fish! Oh, the sight of tons upon tons of tiny fishes flying free! I'm welling up just thinking of it. They went up with such velocity that only a few tons fell around and on me as I lay among the smoking refuse. The rest were carried off by the clouds and rained down for more than 20 miles east of the factory. Of course, the force of the blast threw me some 60 feet through air, slammed my guts against my spine and slapped my brain to the back of my skull. Then I landed on my back so hard that my left eyeball popped right out of my head.
When the police found me I was still looking for my left eyeball in a pile of little fishes. Thankfully, I found it and tucked it in my pocket until I could get to jail and wash it off. It popped right back in and it generally stays snug in it's socket. It only pops out again when we reenact The Great Herring and Sardine Canning Factory Explosion. The reenactment is a much anticipated event for all the residents here on the 14th floor. We plan and prepare for weeks, gathering cardboard and making streamers. Throughout the year we hoard our little fish crackers. Well, most of us do. The little fish crackers are key, of course. There's always a squabble over who gets to be the Fish Cracker Coordinator. Anyway, this year's reenactment went beautifully. The audience assembled in the dining hall and took their seats or wandered aimlessly around the room. I gave the countdown and everybody yelled, "KABOOM!" The flame and smoke streamers waved, the cardboard flew and bowls of little fish crackers were tossed in the air. Rita was singing 'Don't Cry For Me Argentina', which wasn't part of the program, but it didn't hurt anything. Then I launched myself backward off a table and landed on a cardboard box. Wouldn't you know it, once again, my left eyeball popped out.
So while everybody was scrambling and stuffing their faces with little fish crackers I was yelling, "My left eye! I can't find it! Don't step on it! Don't eat it!" That's when Dr. Idiot walked in, flanked by the chefs. He always looks so constipated when he's irritated and he looked just as constipated this year as he has every year before. Then, true to form, he made us all take a 'shut up' pill and go to our rooms. I didn't even find my elusive eyeball until the next morning when I caught Feeney talking to it in the hall. By then it was filthy and had dust bunnies stuck all over it. Even so, it was a relief. The dust bunnies were good evidence that Feeney hadn't used it to take a closer look at parts of himself. There are parts of Feeney that I'd rather not have my left eye exposed to. Next, I had the meeting with Dr. Idiot to receive my annual dose of recrimination and chastisement for getting everybody so wound up. Then, as usual, he took away my computer privileges 'until further notice'. Now, if I hadn't managed to find my left eye by the time I saw him, Dr. Idiot would have upped my meds and I'd be drooling again. I hate it when that happens. After all, my eyeball is just a small part of the total ME. Why should I be penalized because my left eye plays hide and seek?
They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. Of course it is! That's why I'm here! My left eye repeatedly pops out and I'm the one that gets in trouble. At least my left eye is predictable. I can count on it popping out at least once a year. I don't expect a different result, but that never stops me. On the grander scale, many people behave like my left eye. For instance, the Shoe Bomber was trying to kill a bunch of infidels, instead, he forever changed how we board airplanes. He misbehaved and we got dirty socks. Get enough people in line and the smell of feet must be impressive. Since 9/11 anybody who even looks like they're Muslim is under suspicion. Not fair. Nowadays it's gun owners who are getting a taste of that. Some people are too crazy to have guns, but it's not fair to look askance at every gun owner. Including assault gun owners. Most folks who own guns are perfectly nice, responsible people. Maybe they don't really need an assault weapon, but one shouldn't assume that a scary looking gun indicates that the owner is as crazy as I am. If you have grizzly bears in your backyard an assault weapon is a pretty good idea. It's too bad that some folks are so scared about losing their 2nd Amendment rights, but the more they yell about it the crazier they look. It reflects badly on all the other gun owners and that's not fair either. Perhaps Congress can come up with a law that makes people take their shoes off when they shoot scary looking guns. I'm kidding. Maybe everybody could just use rubber bullets. Would that be fair? Whatever happens, some people are going to yell, "Not FAIR!" and they're right. It isn't fair. So which choice is more reasonable? Letting everybody have scary looking guns and shrugging your shoulders when people are shot? Or making it harder for everybody to buy scary looking guns? Doing nothing, repeatedly, is pretty crazy in it's own way.
It's quite a conundrum. One thing is certain, people will get shot. Some will be shot with assault weapons wielded by crazy people. Others will be the garden variety victims of evil criminals. A few will get shot by Dick Cheney. As long as there are guns, people will die. In that regard, at least, guns are just as predictable as my left eye.