Tag: society

Making A War

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There’s always that one person at a party, off in the corner, all by themselves.
Fred was holding the string to a red balloon, mumbling “All I need are ninety-eight more and I can start a nuclear war.”
So, we gathered up all the red balloons, but still came up short.
The party store was closed. We couldn’t buy more.
“Maybe if we paint the other ones red? I said.
But nobody had red paint, and the paint store was closed, too.
The next morning, I was drinking my coffee, when I heard the sirens.
Should have gotten a pinata.

Red

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I was explaining the color red to a blind man when the hot ham sandwiches arrived.
The blind man laughed. “You have no idea what red is,” he said.
“I know what red is,” I said. “You’re the one who has no idea what red is. You’re blind.”
“But I know what red is.”
Then he began an hour-long, amazingly poetic, utterly riveting explanation of what red was.
When he was finished, he took a bite of his sandwich.
“It’s cold! Waitress!”
I may not know what red is, but I know when to eat my hot ham sandwich hot.

Crazy Plays

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When your team isn’t in the running and they’re up against other teams that won’t make the playoffs, you’re gonna see two things: lots of empty seats and lots of crazy plays.
The kids up from the minors, they’re all nervous about this being their one big shot. They’re trying to show off the fundamentals to the managers… or the scouts from other teams.
But the veterans, they’re tired from the long season. Some are on the bubble for free agency or options, they don’t want to make waves.
That one slugger… the franchise player.
Watch him… here he goes.

Falling Balls

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I stood fascinated, watching rows upon rows of Japanese feeding steel balls into pachinko machines, a rattling rain of metal through pegs, flashing lights, spinners… all falling into holes.
“It’s Japanese pinball,” explained my guide, handing me a plastic tub full of the tiny balls.
“Pinball has flippers,” I said. “People have control in pinball, you can bump the table. These are more like slot machines. Just push a button.”
Each ball, a human life. Falling through obstacles until, without fail, reaching oblivion.
I handed the tub back to my guide. “I don’t play the slots. I’m not a machine.”

Ashes

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We place the new chief in a massive stone urn and pour the ashes in on top of him.
These are special, sacred ashes – the ashes of all chiefs, generations upon generations of tribal leaders that have come before.
This ceremony is supposed to pass along the wisdom of the ages, infusing our new leader with the strength and experience to guide us, but most times it just suffocates the dumb son of a bitch.
“Breathe in the knowledge!” commands the High Priest.
And the ceremony for New High Priests? They just paint their faces green and chant.
Go figure.

Stop The Presses

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Stop the presses!
Stop the elevators, too!
Might as well stop the air conditioning.
Oh, and the copiers. Can’t forget them, too.
Have you got a coffee machine?
Yup. Stop that sucker cold.
Stop everything right now.
Okay, now listen. Listen for a minute.
What do you hear?
You hear yourself breathing. And maybe your heart beating. Are your ears ringing, too?
That’s what’s real.
Now turn everything on.
Flip switches, one by one.
Bring it all back to life.
Make some noise.
Yell. Scream. Shout.
Just because you can’t hear your heart beating, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

Please

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I looked at the note in the victim’s hand.
“Please…”
One word, three dots.
That’s all that was on the note.
Nothing else.
“Please… do what?” asked Sam.
“I have no idea,” I said. “The rest’s blank.”
“At least they’re polite,” said Sam. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah,” I said.
So we went to the bar.
The bartender asked me if I wanted the usual.
“Please,” I said, nodding.
Sam looked at me. And then…
“No, that’s not it,” he said.
We never did solve the mystery of who wrote the note or what it meant.
The victim’s just as dead.

The Oldest

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We’re going to miss Daisy.
The first words that she ever said was “This is the oldest I’ve ever been.”
Everyone was shocked to hear this, because it took a level of self-awareness and deep understanding of the nature of life and mortality you wouldn’t expect in someone so young.
Over time, Daisy faced her life’s struggle and would say that phrase with pride. Then, when things turned too rough for her to handle, she said it with worry.
As she approached her twilight years, her accomplishments already made and legacy established, the worry gradually changed to a confident wisdom.

The Swarm

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Gigantic swarms of insects crawl the globe, disassembling buildings and erecting massive, looping cellulose towers.
We few survivors watch from Mars, peering through the spy satellites they hadn’t bothered to destroy.
Landmark after landmark, civilization swept away.
St. Basil’s… gone.
Manhattan… gone.
The Eiffel Tower… gone.
For a moment, yarmulke in hand, I get grim satisfaction as the Dome Of The Rock is crumbled to dust.
Maybe… just maybe… this time they’ll leave it clear?
I mumble a brief prayer.
Yes?
My smile fades as another brown tower takes shape.
Oy. If it isn’t one bunch of assholes, it’s another.

Finished

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We went to the hospital to visit Grandma.
She wanted to say goodbye to the kids, so we brought them along.
They were scared at first, but Grandma told them life was a long, marvelous journey. You meet so many amazing people while you take it, and she told the kids they were the two most amazing ones she’d known.
But that journey, as wonderful as it is, doesn’t last forever. When God decides you’ve earned your rest, well, it’s time to stop.
“Then God tells you to shit yourself,” said a guy mopping the hallway.
No, that didn’t help.