Tag: society

Disinformation Society

639172

Sunrise. Sunset.
We know that the earth goes around the sun, right?
Dialing a number. Setting sail.
Anachronisms. Terminology based on old technology.
Prostitutes know that the term “making love” has nothing to do with their profession.
The language has become polluted. We have twisted it into the opposite of communicating thoughts and ideas.
It is a tool of miscommunication.
So, we now skip the whole concept of language and communicate directly.
It started with brain-to-brain wires, but it’s all wireless now.
No language. Just pure, honest thoughts and ideas.
The person who invents the oxymoron will become disgustingly rich.

Rights

639156

The Legislature voted down the gay marriage bill for the third time in a year, and the governor said he’d just as soon sign a bill that allowed gays to fly.
So, as an April Fool’s joke, the legislature passed that bill. Unanimously.
The governor called a press conference and, in front of a dozen reporters, signed it.
And as he looked out over the assembled group, he noticed a few people rising from their chairs into the air.
Alarmed, he held on to the podium, knuckles white against the wood.
But his feet would not stay on the ground.

Dazzleberries and Ookweed

639175

Grondor admonished his tribe of cave-dwellers: “Lay off the dazzleberries and ookweed.”
He was getting sick and tired of tripping over stoned tribesmen or getting jabbed in the ass with a spear when they’d flip out and hallucinate that he was an elk.
And so, he collected up all the plants he could find, dragged the Firemaker out of his cave, and they set the narcotic bundle aflame.
With a deep sigh of relief, Grondor walked back to the caves.
And saw elk. Dozens of them.
He pulled out his spear and attacked.
His frightened tribe scattered, bleeding and screaming.

Halloween and Black Cats

639174

This is my first Halloween owning a black cat.
Two of them, actually.
They’re indoor-outdoor cats, and they don’t like being cooped up.
But letting them out on Halloween, well, I’ve heard stories.
Bad stories.
Teenagers killing them and mutilating them and setting them on fire and leaving the corpses on doorsteps.
No, I’d rather that not happen to these cats.
So, they’re staying inside.
The orange cat, well, he can go outside all he wants.
The black cats look out the window and whine. On the other side, the orange cat flicks his tail proudly and goes off hunting.

Mushrooms

639159

Deep in the forests of North Umberland, a beam of sunshine falls upon a circle of mushrooms on which the Council Of Elder Faeries sit.
Stroking his long white beard, Gonfall the Elder spoke first. “For our first order of business, can we agree that we need to buy chairs and a conference table?” he said.
The other elves agreed. “These toadstools are always damp,” said Glistensparkle. “Going around with wet spots on our pants sucks.”
“And Pollygoogle is allergic,” mumbled Tinkerwhiskers. “Swells up like a peach.”
The Council moved to adjourn, and they flew off to the furniture store.

Airport Security

639166

It’s a long way to the big city and their airport, so we built ourselves an airport right here.
Sure, we don’t own no planes, but them government folks offered up a bunch of money for airport security, so we built us an airport.
All it took was paving up Carter Road long enough to land a plane. Old Man Murphy’s hog farm is what we call a terminal, barn’s the hangar.
The security money pays for a lot of whiskey.
You can find Murphy on the road, yelling at his pigs to clear the runway.
Reckon they’ll ever fly?

The Forgotten Birthday

639172

When a school is named after someone famous, the staff usually goads the students into some kind of birthday celebration to commemorate all the things that person did for society.
However, when that birthday falls on a holiday like Christmas or comes up during the summertime, it usually passes unobserved.
Not on my watch.
When I was named principal of this school, I took on a sacred oath.
Yes, he was born on the Fourth of July. Fireworks, right?
Wrong. The city hosts the fireworks display elsewhere.
I will do them here, at Yankee Doodle Dandy Elementary, do or die.

Bigfoot

639157

Deep in the woods, Bigfoot sits on a rock and stares at his humongous feet.
Exhausted from the constant chase by photographers and scientists, he pondered the meaning of life.
“Pedicure,” he growls.
A branch snaps.
Bigfoot crawls under a fallen tree trunk.
The leaves rustle, and then a deer approaches.
Bigfoot sighs. Is he paranoid? Is everything a potential threat now?
“Zoloft,” he grumbles.
He shakes dandruff from his fur, ponders using a sharp rock to shave it off, join a circus as a giant, or play basketball.
Do they make shoes his size?
Another branch snaps.
He hides.

Cloak And Dagger

639166

All she wore was a cloak and a dagger.
And nothing else.
The CIA Recruiting Officer shook his head and pointed at the door.
“What’s wrong?” the rejected candidate said with a whine.
“It’s not literally cloak-and-dagger,” said the officer. “It’s just a saying.”
“Fine,” she said. She put down the dagger and took off the cloak. “What kind of job can I get with this?”
The officer checked a telephone directory and dialed.
After a few minutes, he smiled and unfolded a map.
“The White House is marked with a red X,” he said. “Ask for Bill. Good luck.”

Poetry and Coffee

639167

She asks me which I would rather have: good poetry and bad coffee, or bad poetry and good coffee.
“Why not good poetry and good coffee?” I ask. “Can’t you do both?”
It turns out, not only is she the waitress but she’s also a poet. “I don’t have time for both,” she says. “I can either concentrate on the coffee or write really good poetry.”
“Coffee,” I say.
“But this coffee will last only an hour or so,” she says. “My poetry will last for generations, long after I’m dead.”
I shrug. “I guess they won’t tip you either.”