Three Scoops is a Blast! (2 page)

MAGISTRATE: This whole case may ultimately rest on the accuracy of your mother’s predictions. Have you ever known her to be wrong, my child?

ANGELINA: No, absolutely not. That is to say, almost never.

MAGISTRATE: What do you mean? Explain yourself. This is important.

ANGELINA: Well there is a matter about which the outcome is still uncertain.

MAGISTRATE: And what might that be?

ANGELINA: It’s a personal affair, my lord.

MAGISTRATE: You must tell me anyway. A man’s life is in the balance.

ANGELINA: Very well, my lord. My mother foresaw I would meet, marry and make very happy a magistrate before I turned 22 years old.

MAGISTRATE: I see. And when might that date be?

ANGELINA: Tomorrow, my lord.

This brought laughter and good-natured banter from the townspeople who were gathered around to watch the proceedings. Jocular in tone at first, and then more serious, the judge continued.

MAGISTRATE: Do tell. What an interesting coincidence of timing. And would such a marriage include an old dog like me, hypothetically speaking of course?

ANGELINA: I don’t see why not, my lord.

The magistrate was stunned. He had been alone since the death of his wife ten years prior. Angelina was a plum pudding smothered in cream. Myriad pleasurable thoughts spun around in his head. Still, he was a cagey old bird and had his suspicions. He continued with his probing.

MAGISTRATE: You don’t seem terribly upset about the death of your mother, my dear.

ANGELINA: It was not unexpected, my lord.

MAGISTRATE: Yes, that much has been clearly established. Do you know the defendant?

ANGELINA: No my lord.

MAGISTRATE: Is there something you would want from me as a wedding present? A pardon, perhaps, for this handsome young lad?

ANGELINA: No my lord. Only the pleasure of your company.

MAGISTRATE: And you would consider marrying me?

ANGELINA: Of course.

MAGISTRATE: Why, precisely?

ANGELINA: It would honor my mother’s memory and it would take away any possible stain on her record. Besides, you are a handsome and distinguished-looking older gentleman, my lord.

MAGISTRATE
(unself-consciously rubbing his hands together with glee)
: Alright then. It seems a number of us are being governed by forces over which we have no control. Release the prisoner. Angelina and I have other matters to attend to.

Henceforth, in legal circles, the justification for Lord Flatley’s acquittal was credited to the “No Free Will” argument. Courthouse wags dubbed it the Madame Lazonga defense.

After a tiny bump in the road, ending with the timely death of the magistrate as a result of a too brief interlude of vigorous physical activity, Angelina and Lord Flatley lived happily ever after.

Life is Sweet Again on the Planet Lollipop

August 26, 2009

Life had been sweet on the planet Lollipop. Barney Bracken, a young fortyish married man with children, had been living his life according to five simple rules: 1) don’t become addicted to alcohol; 2) don’t become addicted to mood-altering drugs; 3) have a decent job that pays a good living; 4) cultivate real friends; and 5) do whatever it takes to keep your family speaking with you.

Over the past year, he had been introduced to Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn. There were other social media sites, but these were his favourites. At first, they made his life even better.

He loved composing short amusing messages to send out to the world. Something like, “The
Chimney Repair and Wildlife Removal
company showed up at our party and we don’t have a fireplace. Anybody got bail money?”

There were the online games. Under trending topics, when he was asked to submit one-letter-off-movie-titles, his offerings were “Paws”, “Goonstruck” and “Curse of the Dummy’s Tomb.” For my-last-tweet-on-earth he went with what Dracula might have said in some confusion and naïve innocence, “So what’s with the wooden stake and crucifix, Herr Helsing?” He cracked himself up and hoped his new buddies shared in the enjoyment.

His first glimmer something might be going wrong was when he responded, “I absolutely agree, number 3,798” to the statement made by one of his new followers, “I hate it when people are on these sites only to pump up their friend counts.” Then there was the day when he was startled into awareness that he was keypunching on his laptop while sitting on the pot. Submitting messages to social media sites any time of the day or night over his i-phone was becoming a hazard.

He came to realize he was fixated and obsessed. He was addicted to staying in touch with individuals in far-away places who seemed nice enough but with whom he shared no common background. If he didn’t cut down on his social media connections at work, he was sure to be fired. His contacts with his own family and dear old friends were becoming less and less. He was breaking all five of his rules.

He wasn’t the only one in trouble. Change was seeping in over the e-wires. Lots of people seemed to be losing control He began to notice that random rants were appearing on walls and message boards. Some individuals with large number counts were even exhorting their followers to gang up against others. Kibitzing and normal kidding around could quickly turn precarious.

Blocking offensive individuals was one recourse, but clearly a lot of people needed help. What to do? Barney was a serious student of human nature. He swore off computers for a week and gave the matter a great deal of thought. He needed the perspective that came with going “cold turkey.”

There was only one answer. What started out as an electronic version of ham radio needed to evolve into something much more – global group therapy. But who would lead the way? Was Barney the man for the job? Leadership needed to come from somewhere.

This is the folklore behind the founding of CA which is the in-the-clouds version of AA. For the first time in a week, Mr. Bracken sat down at the computer keyboard and stared at the text box. For a few seconds, he paused to compose himself. Then, with the most serious intent he ever mustered, he typed these fateful and life-altering words, “Hi, my name is Barney and I’m a cyberholic.”

Obamacare and Harry Potter

September 5, 2009

To understand the current medical-coverage debate in the United States, you have to know your history. When President Bill Clinton was first elected, his wife Hillary took on the task of comparison shopping around the world to determine the best medical plans. The conclusion was that the best coverage was offered by Hogwarts Academy in the wizarding world.

A wave of a wand and broken bones were healed. The brewing of a potion and most other afflictions could be overcome. Moreover, the Hogwart’s plan was very comprehensive. For example, being a full or even a half muggle was not considered to be a pre-existing condition that would disqualify one from coverage.

The head of Hogwarts at the time, Albus Dumbledore, in discussions with Hillary, said he would be pleased to make a similar plan available in the United States on one condition. He wanted something in return, the legalization of gay marriages. Hil and Bill on the Hill said they would do what they could, but change was more likely to come through state legislation.

Therefore, over the next several years, many states did bring in the appropriate legal changes and high profile same-sex couples tied their knots in California and elsewhere across America. But then Dumbledore died and the whole arrangement fell through.

The Democrats fell out of favor with voters and eight years of darkness descended on the land. I’m not trying to be political here, but the parallels seem obvious. It was a time of Death Eaters (Republicans?) roaming everywhere and Voldemort (Bush?) rising to the ascendant.

Now that those days are past and President Obama has been voted in as President, the subject of universal health care has returned to the front burner. Private negotiations with the wizarding world are heating up again. But there is one big problem. The behind-the-scenes point man for the new health care providers is Harry Potter’s friend Ron. This presents a potential public relations nightmare for the President.

Private-sector health care providers are fiercely opposed to government intervention in their industry. If they ever find out the truth about the secret negotiations that are underway, they will take every opportunity to speak badly about this so-called Weasley Plan. The President is at his wit’s end trying to figure out how to package and sell his efforts without revealing too much.

By the way, Hogwarts was where swine flu first reared up, not Mexico, as most people have been led to think. Animal steward, Hagrid, suffered the first instance of an animal-giant crossover of the virus. Malfoy had just received his degree in medicine and was newly appointed as chief medical officer of the school. He badly botched Hagrid’s care and is now facing a string of malfeasance and malpractice suits.

For a while, the school was under quarantine due to the outbreak of the dreaded disease. The first symptoms among the school’s animal population were interesting and ironic to say the least. They included, dare it be said, hog warts.

Disney Goes After a Bigger Fish than Marvel

September 10, 2009

After recently acquiring Marvel Comics, Disney Corporation is apparently now going after an even bigger prize, Hell Inc. In a surprise move, it has been learned that the devil is interested in selling his interest in the underworld and moving to Palm Springs. There’s something about the climate there that appeals to him.

The devil’s minions have been assured they will retain prominent positions in the new entity. They will have key roles to play in each day’s closing parades at Disney’s various theme parks.

When asked whether hell’s acquisition might not be in conflict with Disney’s prime objective of providing family entertainment, a company spokesperson replied, “Not at all. The synergies from owning everything are enormous. Think of
High School Musical
set in Hades.

Besides, it isn’t just about entertainment. There is the punishment factor if people don’t tune in to our programming. Of course, a small percentage of the population already thinks watching Disney shows is a trip to Hell. We’re still not sure what to do about that faction.”

Some of Marvel’s stable of comic book characters were contacted by reporters for their reactions to the latest news.

“Jiminy!” said the Green Hulk. “I’m just getting used to reporting to a cricket and now this is being thrown at me. It’s making me angry and Disney won’t like me when I’m angry.”

“I’m having trouble fitting mouse ears over my horn stumps,” said Hellboy. “But if the new deal goes through, it will be like going home for me.”

The era of the big getting even bigger seems to be gaining momentum at this stage of the business cycle. In other financial news, a huge unnamed international oil company is in negotiations to buy all of the air we breathe. This is likely to receive a stamp of approval from North American regulators, but it may be held up by authorities in Europe who are supposedly concerned about some conflict of interest issues.

As well, several foreign sovereign wealth funds are known to have an option on buying Mars. Interest in this solar system’s sun has also been expressed, but it is hard to conduct due diligence on something so unapproachable.

Investors knew something was up with Disney and Hell yesterday when Twitter traffic on the subject took off. It became the number one trending topic as the day wore on. The discussion is thought to have been led by Snow White’s little birds.

As for that other prime piece of real estate, Heaven, gatekeeper Gabriel has indicated there is no way it will ever be sold. However, the actual Pearly Gates may be another matter. Feelers have been put out on Craigslist. Sotheby wanted to handle the transaction, but it was not able to confirm that the pearls are actually real and not just cultured.

My Wife and I Argue over our New i-Phone

September 16, 2009

At the end of the day, Donna and I lie in bed and send messages out over Twitter by way of our new i-phone. The following is one of our typical conversations.

ME: Ho het yourwelf a hoof bool to reaf? That’s not what I typed.

DONNA: What did you mean to say?

ME: Go get yourself a good book to read. I was just sending a message to all my friends on Twitter. The keypad on this i-phone is so small, my fingers are mangling my message.

DONNA: You’ll get the hang of it. It’s incredible technology.

ME: I know. It’s a whole new world out there. I love this stuff.

DONNA: So you’re back on Twitter?

ME: Yes, but I have to think of something interesting to say. I’ve got it. I know what to tell everybody. Now summer is over, I’m going to stop eating popsicles. Do you think that will get me thousands of followers.

DONNA: No.

ME: What do you mean no? Will it get me one follower?

DONNA: Probably not. It doesn’t grab the attention.

ME: What am I going to do when even my own wife doesn’t find my tweets interesting?