I'm Building An Ark
It's not that I have any secret foreknowledge of the future. I do, but I'd never admit that in public. I realise that if I made a big deal of my special talent, people would say odd things about me.
Some would say, "Kennedy's a little cuckoo these days."
Others would say, "Kennedy's a wacko, always has been."
Those who don't know me very well would groan, "Ken's a nut."
Those who really don't know me at all would probably shout, "James has gone off the deep end."
The differences are subtle, I know, but the message is always the same: Weird, strange, insane.
I can't say that I would want to argue with any of these conclusions. Being just outside the realm of reality has always served me well. Most people give wackos a fair margin of space. Nobody, in his or her right mind, tries to stop that shabby half-dressed guy on the street corner who is screaming obscenities at the top of his voice about how the world is going to end in just a matter of minutes. Even I don't trust him. But then, I don't trust any revisionist. When I first saw him, I bought into the possibility of what he said, but after a couple of hours wait, I began to suspect his honesty.
But I am not that guy.
I have scientific proof that the world is going to become a giant swimming pool, and unless you're a duck or a fat old koi, then you'll drown in the deep end because there won't be a shallow end where you can stand up and catch a breath.
Oh sure, some of you think you're great swimmers and will be able to tread water or backstroke around indefinitely. Well, that's just a piece of silliness, isn't it? I mean the flood will last for-almost-ever, and you simply won't be able to bob around that long.
Far better to do what I'm doing. Build yourself an ark.
And just think, if enough people build an ark, we can have ark races after the polar caps melt and the water starts to seep into Kansas. So, maybe consider painting a racing stripe down the side of your ark. Not a red one though. I want red for mine. It's a Canadian colour after all.
And be sure to take along some protection. I've no doubt that there will be ark pirates out there on the turbulent blue flood waters. You'll need something to fend them off. I wanted to get a batch of cruise missiles from the US Navy, but that fell through. I did manage to get a few skuds from a guy who goes by the name of Omar.
Of course, you'll want to plan to take some animals along. Maybe not the two-by-two plan created by Noah, but definitely take along some chicken and beef — good for stir fries.
And , oh yeah, take along some entertainment, a DVD player, a TV, and some of your favourite movies. I'm not sure Netflix will be operating, so you may have to actually buy a few movies on DVD. Personally, I like movies that you can watch over and over again and never really understand. The Big Lebowski or Big Fish — movies like those.
Burn a couple of illegal compilation CD's of your favourite tunes as well. Consider the songs of Barry Manilow or The Carpenters, songs without any social relevance or political edge. All that angst of guys like Bob Dylan isn't going to amount to poop out there on the high seas. So, yeah, maybe some Enya, but certainly no Joni Mitchell.
Well, it's been nice talking to you, but I have to get back to building. I can't for the life of me figure out the best place for the hot tub.
I'll keep you posted ...
It's not that I have any secret foreknowledge of the future. I do, but I'd never admit that in public. I realise that if I made a big deal of my special talent, people would say odd things about me.
Some would say, "Kennedy's a little cuckoo these days."
Others would say, "Kennedy's a wacko, always has been."
Those who don't know me very well would groan, "Ken's a nut."
Those who really don't know me at all would probably shout, "James has gone off the deep end."
The differences are subtle, I know, but the message is always the same: Weird, strange, insane.
I can't say that I would want to argue with any of these conclusions. Being just outside the realm of reality has always served me well. Most people give wackos a fair margin of space. Nobody, in his or her right mind, tries to stop that shabby half-dressed guy on the street corner who is screaming obscenities at the top of his voice about how the world is going to end in just a matter of minutes. Even I don't trust him. But then, I don't trust any revisionist. When I first saw him, I bought into the possibility of what he said, but after a couple of hours wait, I began to suspect his honesty.
But I am not that guy.
I have scientific proof that the world is going to become a giant swimming pool, and unless you're a duck or a fat old koi, then you'll drown in the deep end because there won't be a shallow end where you can stand up and catch a breath.
Oh sure, some of you think you're great swimmers and will be able to tread water or backstroke around indefinitely. Well, that's just a piece of silliness, isn't it? I mean the flood will last for-almost-ever, and you simply won't be able to bob around that long.
Far better to do what I'm doing. Build yourself an ark.
And just think, if enough people build an ark, we can have ark races after the polar caps melt and the water starts to seep into Kansas. So, maybe consider painting a racing stripe down the side of your ark. Not a red one though. I want red for mine. It's a Canadian colour after all.
And be sure to take along some protection. I've no doubt that there will be ark pirates out there on the turbulent blue flood waters. You'll need something to fend them off. I wanted to get a batch of cruise missiles from the US Navy, but that fell through. I did manage to get a few skuds from a guy who goes by the name of Omar.
Of course, you'll want to plan to take some animals along. Maybe not the two-by-two plan created by Noah, but definitely take along some chicken and beef — good for stir fries.
And , oh yeah, take along some entertainment, a DVD player, a TV, and some of your favourite movies. I'm not sure Netflix will be operating, so you may have to actually buy a few movies on DVD. Personally, I like movies that you can watch over and over again and never really understand. The Big Lebowski or Big Fish — movies like those.
Burn a couple of illegal compilation CD's of your favourite tunes as well. Consider the songs of Barry Manilow or The Carpenters, songs without any social relevance or political edge. All that angst of guys like Bob Dylan isn't going to amount to poop out there on the high seas. So, yeah, maybe some Enya, but certainly no Joni Mitchell.
Well, it's been nice talking to you, but I have to get back to building. I can't for the life of me figure out the best place for the hot tub.
I'll keep you posted ...
