6/26/12, No. 45

@Jaxonpool _______

LB_red%22Dear%22Arking:  Let me start by saying I didn’t eat the hamster.  But I thought about it.  One minute after I shut the door, I realized I’d forgotten to bring snacks.  By then it was too late.

Animals going two-by-two

So I began going through the list.  Elephants, giraffes, hippopotamuses, and so forth.  When faced with so many choices, it’s tough to make a decision.  Of all the animals gathered two by two, the hamster would be the least missed.  But then, shouldn’t it be the gerbil?  Yes!  It should be.  So I ate it.  One of the two.  Mr. Gerbil was like a chicken nugget.  Unfortunately, he wasn’t very filling.  So I turned to Mrs. Gerbil.  What good would the female be on its own, anyway.

When the rains came, I towed my ark to Jacksonville’s San Marco district, the section adjacent to the river just a few blocks south of Nemours Children’s Clinic.  That part of San Marco is the best place for launching an ark.

Arks require deep water to float properly, and I needed to get mine out into the St. Johns River.  To start though a little water like lubricant must be available to push it out.  That’s why San Marco was best.  There’s often flooding there when a perfect storm occurs of high tide and heavy rains.  Then the district becomes just like its namesake, the Piazza San Marco in Venice, Italy.  In fact, that’s why San Marco was named San Marco, because it has its own acqua alta.  At least that’s what Violent Crawley of the Jacksonville News said.

Alternative link

Alternative link

So, here I am now, inside and all snug, the door shut and locked.  Out there, the apocalypse.  You, dear Jacksonville readers, brought all this rain on yourselves, sinners that you are!  You just can’t mend your ways, can you!  First it was Smokey Sodom  And now, this.  So let’s be clear.  God doesn’t like you.  I have said this before.  But you didn’t listen.  Usually they say “the fire next time” (or at least James Baldwin says that), but God so hated you He decided to reverse the order and send the fire first, then the water.  Probably because water is a more effective method of purgation.  And no one needs purging more than you.  God told me.  And so did Michael Savage.

Jacksonvillians who didn’t plan ahead, trying to get into my ark

And now that it’s water, not smoke, let me stress that no one is entitled to be dry.  No one has a right.  Period.  People (like you) who didn’t want to drown should have planned ahead.  You should have built your own ark instead of clinging to the door handle of mine as the floodwaters begin to rise, as you now are doing.  I see you out there, hoping I’ll relent.  Why do people expect other people to take care of them?  Sense of entitlement, I guess.  I blame FDR.

Jacksonvillians seeking higher ground. (Good luck with that! The highest point in Jacksonville is only 40 feet.)

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  You have only yourselves to blame.  You should have taken care of yourselves.  You should have planned ahead.  Like I did.  I built an ark.  What did you do?  Nothing.  You morons just stood around, laughing at me.  But now, who’s laughing?

Waving bye, bye, bon voyage!

Why is God punishing you?  It’s obvious: there are too many lazy people like you.  There are too many lazy people who don’t build arks.  “As ye sow, so shall ye reap.”  That’s what happens to you when you don’t plan ahead.  It’s similar to when people make bad decisions.

Noah’s arc on the flood, lightning behind the ship.

There’s no free lunch.  So learn your lesson.  Depend on yourself.  Don’t expect anyone to help you.  Don’t go looking for a handout.  Be self reliant.  Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.  Build your own ark..

Arking is a wonderful sport.  A very competitive one.  Either you build one, or you don’t.  And if you don’t, you lose.  Simple as that.  Noah was on to something.  Arking is also a political belief system rooted in Thomas Hobbes’ state of nature.  Except with arking, the state of nature is out on the water.  It’s the convergence of sport and politics.  Kind of like Survivor.  A blood sport.  Except in this one, no one bleeds.  They just drown.

Noah’s arc floating on the floodwaters.

It’s been about an hour now since I shut the door.  Hunger pangs are starting again.  What would Noah have done?  One of these animals is the next most expendable.  But which one?  Another small mammal, I think, one the world can do without after the rains cease and the waters subside.  Such as Mr. Hamster.  And then Mrs. Hamster.  They’re like potato chips. Bet you can’t eat just one!

I’m turning into a one-man species extinction machine!  When the forty days are up, I wonder which animals will be left.

Now, how long till that damned rainbow arrives?  Just another 39 days, 22 hours, 59 minutes, 10 seconds . . . .  People who know me say I have a false sense of self-possession.  But I’m doing okay.  Don’t worry about me.  I always plan ahead.

Lemule Blogiver

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