Random Thoughts on the Power to the People

Power to the people man!

And when I say power, I mean 220 volts of alternating current to every home from here to the moon.

Get rid of those 110-volt receptacles because they can’t do anything other than run a light weight LCD screen.

What we need is full-blown plasma that will suck the life out of three nuclear reactors and burn retinas in the three surrounding states.

Yes, we need power! Power to charge the batteries of my Tesla Sports car!

[I wish!]

Power to drive the frigid air conditioner I use to cool my Saint Bernard!

[Without it the house turns into a pool of drool!]

And the power to drive a hundred teams trying to wipe each other out on high end gaming computers attached to 7.1 speaker systems at full blast while playing Modern Warfare 3.

[Lock and load people!]

And before you know it, the world will be infested by blind and deaf zombiis, staggering around our cities because they played for weeks on end on their plasma screens with the sound turned up.

And a new order will have to be established to ensure the survival of the remaining 2 percent of humans who have not been zombified yet.

And in this new order, there will be no basketball players, computer gamers, skateboarders, or reality stars earning the big bucks and hogging all the limelight.

No, what we will have people will real skills to do honest to goodness, back-breaking jobs. The kind of jobs that require us to grow crops with our bare hands, transport ice on our shirtless backs, gnaw raw bones with our braceless teeth, and to create cool breezes for our world emperor with nothing but lungs.

Yes, it will mean going back to the metal age, where steel Tonka toys reign supreme and plastic lead-based toys are used to poison vermin and really obnoxious people with.

Yes, we need to give power; power to the people man!

Get it Together Man

[Slap! Slap! Slap!]

Snap out of it and get it together man!

[Wheeze.]

Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Those thoughts jumped into my brain and I couldn’t get it out until I spread it around.

I briefly considered shouting it out over lunch, but the guards with their Tasers were keeping an eye out for troublemakers.

And while they tolerate a lot, such as full scale food fights, disturbing Zen during lunch is not one of those things. Those transgressions require drastic actions, such as eight Tasers used at the same time to fry that sucker.

So here I am, hammering away at my keyboard in an attempt to let the words out before I explode into a song and dance routine.

And if there is anything worse than wreaking havoc on Zen by shouting unintelligible ideas, it’s dancing the rhumba barefoot on hot tacks in a Hawaiian while shooting peanuts from an S-curved straw.

It’s just not done.

[Everyone, more slapping!]

Enough already! I said I was fine! And I promise it won’t ever happen again.

That is until the next Friday comes around or when the hounds howl at the moon.

Yahoo! Time to go home and leave all this stress behind!

[Bleh-bleh-bleh.]

Power to the people man!