UNIVERSE AGAINST THE UNIVERSE---WHAT COULD BE WORSE?
It all started with a blazing bright light in the darkness of night. It was not lightening that starts with a roar or a rumble or intermittent mumble, a sudden streak that speaks its piece, grows weak, comes and goes to who knows where.
It starts on Mars or Venus or other nearby stars, then competing planets get in line and wait for action to begin. Is this first blow worse than anything we’ll ever know, a declaration of inter-planetary confrontation of all of God’s creation, the universe? What could be worse?
This is not a fear of annihilation limited to residents o fthe stratosphere. What starts up there will spread down here and it’s not clear which side might win and which might lose and which we eventually must choose to support, who to accuse, what kind of treaty must be found on neutral ground that opposing planets can embrace to save interspace for future generations to generate and embrace the greatest profits to be made with limited loss of expendable life.
Mediation on the Moon broke down soon after it began concerning flight rights over nudist sites after dark when lovers in parking spots smoking pot get hot watching little green men drink gasoline and shoot flames without shame at any dame they aim to tame.
Earthguys demand discounts on the price of gas they use to heat up their lass like green men do. And they say, why not reveal our space machines are fueled by a mix of prune juice and Boston beans, better by far than gasoline?
On a cold winter day to get rockets rocking, filter through dirty socks water from a kiddy pool, diaper drippings and toenail clippings, mixed by worn out windshield wipers. If that doesn’t work, a Viagra pill will fill the bill and the ship will be off and running hard on the road to Mandalay.
The delegations refused to fool around with far out foolish fuels made from beans and prunes, diaper drippings and toe nail clippings and other things, but agreed on research into dirty jeans as a means of fueling future flying machines.
When views collided, the two sides decided to divide. Besides, each considered a curse faced the universe and for diverse reasons, things would be worse unless war was declared. Both sides prepared for the First, Last and Only War of the Universe against the Universe.
The War lasted a thousand years and when peace was declared Earth and all the stars were spared but not the creatures or movie double features or Sunday School teachers or TV preachers. All that remained were empty jails and courts and unwashed jockey shorts. All the universe still was there and so was the air, but nobody to care or steak or ham to give a damn. Odd but true, there still was God and cod and a wad of cash and corned beef cash, And flowers and trees and stinging bees and God still in charge of His dynasty.
It starts on Mars or Venus or other nearby stars, then competing planets get in line and wait for action to begin. Is this first blow worse than anything we’ll ever know, a declaration of inter-planetary confrontation of all of God’s creation, the universe? What could be worse?
This is not a fear of annihilation limited to residents o fthe stratosphere. What starts up there will spread down here and it’s not clear which side might win and which might lose and which we eventually must choose to support, who to accuse, what kind of treaty must be found on neutral ground that opposing planets can embrace to save interspace for future generations to generate and embrace the greatest profits to be made with limited loss of expendable life.
Mediation on the Moon broke down soon after it began concerning flight rights over nudist sites after dark when lovers in parking spots smoking pot get hot watching little green men drink gasoline and shoot flames without shame at any dame they aim to tame.
Earthguys demand discounts on the price of gas they use to heat up their lass like green men do. And they say, why not reveal our space machines are fueled by a mix of prune juice and Boston beans, better by far than gasoline?
On a cold winter day to get rockets rocking, filter through dirty socks water from a kiddy pool, diaper drippings and toenail clippings, mixed by worn out windshield wipers. If that doesn’t work, a Viagra pill will fill the bill and the ship will be off and running hard on the road to Mandalay.
The delegations refused to fool around with far out foolish fuels made from beans and prunes, diaper drippings and toe nail clippings and other things, but agreed on research into dirty jeans as a means of fueling future flying machines.
When views collided, the two sides decided to divide. Besides, each considered a curse faced the universe and for diverse reasons, things would be worse unless war was declared. Both sides prepared for the First, Last and Only War of the Universe against the Universe.
The War lasted a thousand years and when peace was declared Earth and all the stars were spared but not the creatures or movie double features or Sunday School teachers or TV preachers. All that remained were empty jails and courts and unwashed jockey shorts. All the universe still was there and so was the air, but nobody to care or steak or ham to give a damn. Odd but true, there still was God and cod and a wad of cash and corned beef cash, And flowers and trees and stinging bees and God still in charge of His dynasty.
posted by Ed Weiland at 11:26 PM
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