Ripsnorters and a Humdinger

     Well slap an alligator and run for your life, but it's been a depressing couple of weeks, hasn't it? Robin Williams, Lauren Bacall, Ferguson, bombing Iraq again, and on and on. I don't know about you, friends and neighbors, but I feel like I've been living in a world written by Raymond Carver and Edgar Allan Poe, and narrated by Eeyore the donkey. So what does one do, when confronted by all this weighty, soul dragging news? Give in? Let the world fade into that lifeless gray,drop one's gaze to the ground, and acknowledge that in the biggest of pictures, very little matters and all of it ends?
     Well, sure, eventually, that's what happens. It's called adulthood, and it's mostly defined as the slow process by which all dreams fade from consciousness and reality takes their place, proceeding to drain the mind and body like a parasite.
     But how about we don't do that today? How about if today, this one time, I go completely against type and we just have ourselves a good chuckle at this stupid, silly world we live in, and maybe decide to have a little fun together on this particular Friday? After all, you'll never see this day again (sorry, cheering people up is a new thing for me, this could be a little rocky), so let's spend it making some merry, shall we?
     Or I guess you could just stop reading right now, never knowing what words of joy lie beyond this sentence, doomed instead to a life devoid of inspirational whimsy and wholesome tomfoolery. Spoilsport.
     As for the rest of you, come along, and we'll have us a real ripsnorter of a good time.
     And we're going to start with the Ku Klux Klan.
     Bet you didn't see that one coming.
     Anyway, it turns out that the KKK has become fractured over a fundraiser started by one Charles Murray (who of course goes by Chuck) to support Darren Wilson, the (family friendly adjective not found) police officer in Ferguson who shot and killed Michael Brown. Turns out, ol' Chuck's fundraiser is so distinctly and disturbingly dreadful that the KKK has banished him. That's right, they didn't just take away his sheets and ID card, they full on banished him.
     Which goes to show, that even in organizations as stupid, as destructive, and as fueled by fear and hate, all is not lost. So smile, already.
     Unrelated tip: use the word 'ripsnorter,' or its variation, 'ripsnorting.' It's good for you, and no one does it anymore.
     Okay, let's do a little rapid fire headline and response, how about why not? That always cheers me up.
     Headline:
     "The most annoying thing parents do on planes"
     Response:
     Bring their kids. Don't you act like this wasn't your first thought, either. Even the parents among you thought it.
     Headline:
     "Pig That Menaced Children Seen Again in Maine"
     Response:
     That sounds like someone watched a humdinger of a bad horror movie for the second time. "The Pig That Menaced Children." Or, if you prefer, "Menace Pig."
     Headline:
     "Los Angeles Port Welcomes Massive Rubber Duck"
     Response:
     They'd better. You ever try stopping a massive rubber duck from docking when it has a mind to? You're better off trying to get a pig to stop menacing kids in Maine. Which never ends well in the movies, let me tell you.
     Headline:
     "Lucky Cat Survives 12-story Fall in New York City"
     Response:
     Of course it did, because cats are minions of the one true Satan, who doesn't so much allow his disciples to die as he does call them back to Hell for redeployment.
     And speaking of cats and bad segues, I have one last thing for all of my favorite people, also known as people who don't own or like cats. I know, I know, most of you are cat lovers, and at the start (well, not exactly at the start, but you know what I mean) of this piece I said I was going to cheer you all up, but here's the thing: cats are everywhere, all the time, including the entire internet, and those of us who aren't fans rarely get the opportunity to express ourselves on the subject without receiving shocked looks, remonstrations, and proclamations of feline adoration that often border on the absurd.
     So just this once, shut up and let us have our day. After it's over, you can go cuddle with your kitty and make yourself feel better. I'm sure it will have no true feelings about it either way.
     Because, as I said, they're demons. Here we go.
     First, and real quick, I saw an article that proposed to explain the three most common problems with cats, and how one might go about repairing said. I did not read the article, because I'd already found an answer, which leads to not only a better segue, but also the following.
     Police officers in Florida have captured a twelve foot long python thought to be responsible for a whole slew of missing cats. The python -or hero, perhaps, to some- is "the answer to so many questions," says resident Pamela Dinola, who lost five of her seven cats. Which is too many.
    The seven, I mean, not the five.
    Okay, it's over, you readers of 'Cat Fancy' magazine. Dry those eyes, and remind yourself that your cat is special, and it loves you.
     Even though it isn't, and it doesn't.
     Cheer up, everyone. As for me, I'm going to have a glass of wine and watch "Good Morning, Vietnam."
     Thanks, Robin.
-John