While exercising today as part of my regime to better my physical self, I saw a person whose physical attractiveness (and subsequent chances of procreation) could only increase during a city-wide blackout in the dead of a summer heat wave where consumption of alcohol is deeply implicated. Of course that is hallow and mean, but I did say I was trying to better my physical self, not my cranial or spiritual self. That takes a great deal of effort. My thoughts then turned to how easy it is to be mean and selfish and believing it’s part of human nature, part of the survival instinct.
However, we as semi-humans have the capability to act on ideas, such as altruism and doing good for the sake of good (and most likely to alleviate the intense and disturbing guilt from years of debauchery and sleeping around). That takes so much effort. Then again, on the side of evil, so does revenge. That’s not something you do on the spur of the moment. It too takes planning, just with “getting even” as the underlying motive.
There is a saying that “revenge is a dish best served cold” – I disagree. I was always told that soup Vichyssoise is best served cold. Or is that Gazpacho? Either way, I can’t see revenge being worse than a soup served cold. And did you notice that when they say revenge should be served cold, there is no talk of an appetizer? A salad with heavy ranch dressing maybe? Or perhaps a dessert? Nope, not a word. Just a main course. Probably overcooked with little seasoning or old garlic. Like British food.
Now, I know some of you are thinking that my mention of the word “revenge” would set me off on a diatribe, when in reality I don’t need to be on a diatribe, I need to be on a diet. I have eaten so many Pop Tarts of late, it’s a miracle I’m still alive. That’s not even counting the countless sliced and grilled meats I have ingested since the summer started. And let’s not even mention the apple cake that my aunt made with what I would conservatively estimate was 11 pounds of butter and 12 pounds of sugar. Oh my, it was good.
So there will be no talk of revenge, unless it has to do with my arteries – they will surely want vengeance on me, and may well take it at an in opportune time, for example, when I am going up the stairs with a glass of port wine and lots of clean laundry, or more likely when I am desperately trying to convince my wife that several days of facial hair growth is not a true deterrent to a romantic evening.
But I digress. Why? Largely because of the intense heat that we were suffering through last week. Which I guess you could probably call a form of natural revenge in that mother nature is making us suffer through something akin to a volcanic eruption mixed with a steam room at a men’s club filled with sweaty older Caucasian gentleman who have thick gold chains and enough body hair to make a winter coat resembling that of a chinchilla.
What does any of this have to do with the latest posting of Stanko and Tibor, the comedic oracle that was once described in a Biblical commentary as having been partially responsible for causing the great flood as well as several wars between the ancient Israelites and the Assyrians due to its questionable content and poor style and penmanship? Not that much actually. But the insanity of heat, the insanity of steam rooms, of war, of this weather we are going through all remind us that nothing really is that logical unless you want it to be logical so it fits into your universe and makes going to sleep a little bit easier. Or just get an air conditioner to cool off your place of residence so you can sleep much more easily. That is much simpler than reading this comic.
King Triton of the Mermaids and Mermen Druker
3 thoughts on “The Constipated Constable”
Another well done