Okay, Mickey, you have said you have confidence in science to the point of not believing in God… at least not the Christian imaginary sky-friend with the white beard and bad temper. But your use of magic words then makes you a hypocrite.
What? Magic words, you say?
You heard me. You use words that give you special powers. And you believe in them like some kind of anti-science religious zealot.
Thank you, Bruce Rydberg, for giving me this useful meme.
Okay, you caught me. There are certain words that do have super powers. I know because I have used them. (And Science is not the opposite of faith. Just ask Heisenberg.)
I first suspected that magic words really existed back in college. I read the book Dune by Frank Herbert. (Followed by every other book he wrote. I became a Dune-dream believer.) Remember the part where Paul uses the Bene Gesserit fear chant to get through the psychological test given to him by the Bene Gesserit witch? You don’t? You haven’t read it? I sometimes forget other people aren’t hopeless Trekkies and Sci-fi nerds too. I do know, at least in my head, that most people have real lives outside of their own heads. But I did develop a magic word to deal with times of stress and fear.
Really, Mickey? You chant this out loud when you’re nervous?
I say it in my head over and over to focus my spirit on what is truly important. Never out loud. I used this word to get through my wedding day in 1995 when a blizzard in Iowa prevented all of my non-Texas family at the time from attending. I used it the day my first son was born when the delivery had to be accomplished by c-section due to heartbeat irregularities. I used it the day an irate student came down the hallway towards me with metal ninja throwing stars, saying he was going to kill a specific student that was hiding in the History teacher’s classroom. Yes, it helped me think and act appropriately during some rather intense times. Sometimes a bit of nonsense injected into the middle of a tense situation makes all the difference in the world.
But that isn’t the only magic word that you made up, is it?
No, there’s the word “Paffooney” which you may have seen before in this blog. It stands for a picture of my own design put together with words I have actually written myself. Remember this?
It still works. I tested it myself this morning. It gives you a look at my artwork posted on this blog without risking the danger of going back through all my old posts and accidentally reading something that makes your head melt.
But, really, are your magic words only words you made up yourself?
No. I think the word “Truth” is a magic word. It can be used or misused for both good and evil.
This is very likely the magic word we need to defeat the orange-faced monkey we elected president. There are lots of words that have immense power. And all you have to do is believe in it a little bit… and use it intelligently.
During my middle-school teaching years I also bought and read copies of The Prince and the Pauper, Roughing It, and Life on the Mississippi. I would later use a selection from Roughing It as part of a thematic unit on Mark Twain where I used Will Vinton’s glorious clay-mation movie, The Adventures of Mark Twain as a way to painlessly introduce my kids to the notion that Mark Twain was funny and complex and wise.
Catch a Falling Star 
Doom is Imminent, It’s Time to Sing!
Yessir, the Cubs have a chance to win their first World Series since 1908 tonight. They have not won the title since Tinker to Evers to Chance was the double-play combo of poetic proportions. They have never won in my lifetime, and I am quite old. So, there is proof positive the world is about to end.
Yes, I can even describe the mechanics of the thing. Donald Trump will be elected President of the United States thanks to Mr. Comey’s timely reveal of more scandalous emails that he has not read and chuckled about yet. You know, the ones that he couldn’t have actually read yet because they come from potential pedophile Anthony Weiner’s computer, and he had to have a separate warrant from a judge to read anything that may have to do with Hillary, even though probably none of them contain nude pictures from Hillary, and she probably didn’t even write those emails. The world had to know about that right before the election, especially members of the Republican House Committee for examining Hillary’s every boo-boo. So, the Donald will win, because nobody is doing any press conferences on the FBI investigation on his ties to the Russian government through the biggest bank in Russia. ‘Taint important, Pogo.
And once the great orange pumpkin-head is our next president, our health care will no longer be under the misguided protection of Obamacare. Instead, it will will be taken care of by “something terrific” that will make high profits for somebody, and make certain that I will never be able to pay another medical bill (since those who are deceased rarely do).
And, of course, President Pompadoodle will be able to declare that we no longer have to believe in the climate change hoax. The result being that we will soon be able to buy beachfront property in Iowa and Missouri, be able to purchase our breathable air in factory-made brick-form, and possibly grow a helpful third eye from the mutating effects of nuclear radiation.
And, lastly, I would like to thank the late great Walt Kelly for illustrating today’s post. One wonders how a cartoonist can look so far ahead from the 1960’s to do such a fine job of illustrating the problems of 2016? Will miracles never cease? I mean, really, we could probably do with a few less of these industrial grade miracles made out of recycled elephant poop.
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Filed under angry rant, comic strips, commentary, conspiracy theory, feeling sorry for myself, goofy thoughts, humor, politics, satire
Tagged as Chicago Cubs, Donald Trump, doom, end of the world, Hillary Clinton, humor, politics, satire, Walt Kelly