Mayday! Mayday! A May Day Message from Stingray!

The Defensemaster propositioned me with cookies and sex to write an essay on May Day. May Day? Okay, that’s the first day of the Month of May and we celebrate that because we need to remember to stock up on tequila. After all, the 5^th of May is just four days away and they might run out at the store! No. We celebrate the first of May because that was the day that the first stripper pole was used for reasons other that burning women at the stake. That’s not a bad thought and it could be that history would teach us that is how the stripper pole was invented but I doubt it. Perhaps a resourceful witch with a nice rack said, "Look at what I can do with this pole aside from being burned to a death for your amusement." Then some bloke from the back row of the execution yelled, "Show us your tits!" and a new industry and tacky catch phrase was born. Okay, this is taking a horrible turn in the first paragraph so I will try to re-route my thoughts.

Lately I have been a little low and searching for the meaning of it all. I have been avoiding work and trying to find my special purpose and a good cup of pizza. On days when I go into the office I drive by this cemetery and along the west side is the military portion of the bone yard. New piles of dirt mound up from day to day where old geezers and young soldiers make fresh fertilizer and I wonder “What the fuck?"

Spinoza said that, "Nature has no goal in view and final causes are only human imaginings."

Leo Tolstoy said that, "The voice of conscience is the voice of God."

Albert Einstein said that, "God does not play dice with the universe."

Stingray would have always sided with Spinoza but now he has a cause to route for Einstein. He was right about a lot of really interesting stuff, and if he is right then what he is saying is that God has better things to do than be associated with and consumed by humans. In the scheme of grander things, like the universe, our little planet and humans are just a booger on the floor mat of a 1994 Chevy pickup. We evolved over millions of years due to some amazing circumstances, and now we are the cancer that is destroying the planet. Our lives, although they seem complex, are quite boring and unoriginal.

I don’t even want to think about a heaven. If I am stuck for eternity with this soul and this conscious mind then it’s going to be torture. Hey, aside from that, how about that war in Iraq, huh? Here is the deal: Americans can’t have massive terrorist attacks on our soil. It’s bad business. Liberals seem easy to forgive and forget and the Bush administration understands that we are going to have to stay in their shitty country for as long as it takes and as much as it costs. Otherwise we will be reminded that we gave up too soon when somebody straps on some dynamite and blows up the pedestrian mall at the University of Iowa or some other place where normal folks go to enjoy their liberty and freedom.

It's not like is some high school fist fight where I can pop a punk a couple of times in the mouth and not worry that he is going to club me in the back of the head with a baseball bat at a later date. He will. He of course being the terrorist-harboring Middle Eastern nations. You will be walking down this hypothetical street and WHAM! right in the nuts. Fucker got you just because you didn’t finish the fight properly and let them know never, ever fuck around in my backyard again. Does that make sense?

Here is my deal. I occasionally travel for work and fly into some big airports. You know those big tanker trucks they use to refuel planes? What if a terrorist were to strap on a dynamite suit and hijack one of those trucks and drive it right smack into the side of a loaded 747? BOOM! The sad thing is that now have to worry about shit like that, and it reminds me that we ain’t done yet over there. And until I no longer ever have those worried thoughts then they are winning, we are losing, and this fight isn’t over. War is officially over when I stare out the window of the plane again, see the fuel truck, and think about pussy.

Okay then, that’s my May Day piece, Defensemaster. Hope there were a few thoughts in there worth pondering and you all have a really nice day.

Stingray