The Anarchist Monthly

As many of you now know, our society is being besieged by anarchists. They're everywhere! Why just three days ago my wife and I were driving around Minneapolis and I said, 'Look, sweetheart, there's an anarchist wielding an implement of doom!' At that point she informed me it was simply the guy down our street mowing his lawn.

Then last night we were at a social function and I noticed someone rolling something very heavy -- and suspicious-looking -- into the distance. "Everyone get down!" I screamed, hitting the floor. "Real menace is afoot!" Well, no one joined me on the floor. And it turned out what I saw was just a bowling ball rolling peaceably enough down a well-lacquered lane.

Still, after reading the local papers (particularly columnist Katherine Kersten, who isn't a writer -- or at all sane -- but still somehow gets paid to write) I know that the streets of our nation our thick with anarchists. T-H-I-C-K.

Why, just the other day I was at a traffic light waiting for the light to turn green. Soon enough it did just that. However, right then the anarchist in front of me flipped on his left-turn signal. Enraged, I waited until all the cars in the right lane had passed me. Then I swung around him, rolled down my window and shouted, 'Goddam anarchist!! I want you to know that you and yours have totally ruined the small percentage of this country George W. Bush and his Godless ilk somehow haven't managed to ruin yet!!'

Anarchists. They're all alike.

we had joy, we had fun..

Paul Newman has passed away. It's a sad day. I recently read a great profile on him in Vanity Fair. If this guy wasn't a saint, then no saint has ever lived. He was kind, generous and, man, did he give back! And without much fuss and no fanfare. The world has lost a true gentleman and a great humanist, but it's a better place for his having been here. Safe travels, Mr. Newman.

Which brings me to my subject line. I was thinking yesterday of something I've always found funny. Some of you probably remember the song that starts, 'Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die/when all the birds are singing in the sky.' Now, granted, the song isn't a laugh riot in itself. But it's a song of affirmation. It's not all grim, as evidenced by this lyric: 'We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun, but the hills that we climbed were just seasons Out of time.' In effect saying, 'it wasn't all bad.'

Now when I was really young this song was still played on the radio a lot. And some of the kids I hung out with used to sing it a different way. They used to sing it like this: 'We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun, but the cops took their guns and they shot us in the buns.' The first time I ever heard that I about died laughing. It's stupid. Purely stupid. And yet on some level it works. I think what makes it work is that it's so true to life. It starts out fairly promising and then everyone ends up in the hospital. Anyway, though I've long since forgotten my point, this version of that song is something that will make ME laugh until my dying day.

Speaking of police, I was with a friend in St. Paul on Snelling Avenue during the Republican National Convention. We were just saying our goodbyes and I flashed him the 'peace sign (v).' Seconds after I did that five policemen in riot gear charged me, knocked me to the ground and worked me over thoroughly.

As they did, I thought, 'God Bless America! God Bless Jack Anderson!'

Ah, it's swell to be free..

ok, I'm back

Well, enough of that political swill. At least for a day or two, I say. Time to get back to some good old-fashioned nonsense, the stuff I know best. Let's see...so much to cover, so little time...

First, a headline I think I love: Man hit by train in downtown Fargo escapes serious injury, ruins clothes.

"Well, I have some good news, mom, and then some news that's not so good.."

Can you imagine? That guy will be eating lunch off that headline for months -- weeks -- years!! Gosh, I bet his cereal tasted different this morning. That was probably the best bowl of Corn Flakes he ever had!

I remember the best bowl of Corn Flakes I ever had. It was December and snow was falling. Or it was August and I was suffering from a case of dandruff. I'm a little fuzzy on the details. But how about that?! Hit. By. A. Train. You can't make this stuff up.

Otherwise, I'm in a mostly empty room. About 10 minutes ago I crumpled up my sandwich wrapper into a ball. There was a trash can not eight feet away from me. However, between me and this trash can (a low rider, not one of those waist-high jobbers) was a computer desk with a computer monitor sitting on top of it. Frankly, there was no real direct shot I could take. The only thing I could do -- besides actually getting up and walking over to the trash can -- was attempt a miraculous bank shot, off the wall. So I did. I just let it be what it was going to be. I didn't force it. I let it happen. End result? Yeah, put it on the board. That puppy was lost and I gave it a home! The only sad thing was that no one was here to share in the delights of my victory. I can only hope Jesus was watching. I'm pretty sure even He would have been impressed.

Finally, some poems.

Simple Physics
Have you ever
had a literary
giant
step on your toes?
Just one word
for that:
Ouch!!

The Rest of the Story
It's funny how fast
things can go
from good
to bad.
For instance,
at this writer's conference
a few years ago,
I was standing
by a chum and I said
to him,
'Hey, look! Here comes
Norman Mailer!!'
Naturally,
I was pretty excited.
Then,
not 27 seconds later,
I let out a wincing yelp.
"He just stepped on my toes!"
I screamed, as Mr. Norman Mailer
casually
continued on his way.
I was about to start
ragging on Mailer
big-time,
when my friend said,
'Hey, look -- here comes
Judy Blume!'

I assumed a karate stance.