Tuesday, January 15, 2013

You know what I've noticed about these songs that say "Don't fear the reaper," "Don't fear death," or "Only the Good Die Young" in various ways? They never say not to fear a particular cause of death. Like, "Don't fear the land mine." Or "Don't fear the HIV Virus." Or, "Don't fear falling into the meat grinder."

Take Pink Floyd's "The Great Gig in the Sky," "Why should I be afraid of dying? There's no reason for it. You've gotta go sometime." How about "Why should I be afraid of being mauled by a rottweiler? There's no reason for it. You've gotta go sometime."

As long as we're using restaurant metaphors, Mr. President, I can't resist. Since birth, I've been coerced into going to the same restaurant as everyone else and intimidated if I speak out. At this restaurant, my say in what anyone else orders is 1/n, and I have no say in the size of the n. Even if the bill were divided evenly, and it's not, everyone would be tempted to order the surf and turf because others are doing it too and sticking everyone else with the bill. Since most people have little control over the outcome, they pay little attention to what others are ordering anyway. Every time people complain that we should leave the Ruth Chris Steakhouse and go to Howard Johnson, you make a scene. You and a million Officer Barbradies before you insist this is a good way of doing things. In these circumstances, maybe I would be tempted to not pay the bill if it's the only way to prevent you from making a scene the next time I suggest Howard Johnson's.