The Critic

“The problem is,” said The Critic, “is that the universe is an un-ordered place, and disorder, in all circumstances, is simply unacceptable.   My job as a critic, is to point out disorder, critique it, and hope, by this critique, to motivate change toward perfection.  I can’t abide ANYTHING that is, or appears to be, not organized and perfect.  I need all paintings and pictures on all walls I see to be hung perfectly straight and rightly aligned.   If, for example, I go into someone’s house and see that their pictures are hung even slightly crooked, or that the utensils in their kitchen cabinets are in ANY sort of disarray, I’ve no problem pointing it out to them.  Only weak-minded fools live in such a chaotic state.  My will is disciplined and strong from decades of hard study and controlled, reasoned thoughts.  My job, as The Critic, is to correct the flaws and weaknesses in others by riding them mercilessly about what I perceive to be their short comings.   Wear a suit with a tie that doesn’t quite match, and I’ll trash you for it.  I’ll trash you until I humiliate you enough to change your ways and correct the flaws I see in you.   Date someone who I think isn’t attractive, and I’ll tell you you’re a buffoon for doing so.  Perfection is all, and order is God.

Through discipline, criticism, and ordered thought, I see my place on earth as a force to better it, and by doing so, to better life for all humans on it.   When I leave this life, my tombstone shall read, ‘Here Lies A Man Who Accepted NOTHING But Order, Perfection, And Discipline.’  Some may find my constant demand for perfection, as my learned mind sees it, as too harsh, too strict, too unreasonable.  To them I say, you’re weak, cowardly, and afraid to admit that MY way of order, MY insight into life and how it should be lived, is the RIGHT one.   Many hear my criticisms of them and the world and shake in terror because they are awed by my brilliance and my greatness and know living up to them may not be possible for them.  A superior intellect and a superior human being can be intimidating to many.  Others who fear me say I’m a cruel man who should not be listened to.  Fear does that to weak minds.  But, in the end, I KNOW my way will be seen as right by everyone.  My legacy will last forever, and I will be remembered as the greatest, most ordered and disciplined mind to have ever lived.  Schools will teach children of the value MY sense of correctness, order and righteousness brought to this world, and holidays will be celebrated in my honor many centuries after I’m gone.  I am The Critic.  I am the voice of greatness.  I am the voice of reason and order and no one will ever be able to say, in the long run, that I was wrong.  It was my destiny to criticize those weaker than I.  It was my righteous task.  These are facts that, in time, all will see as true.   So sayeth The Critic.  So sayeth the perfect human mind.”

The Critic died in his 78th year of life.  He was alone when it happened–a heart attack, say the doctors.   Since he had no next of kin, and lived friendless and alone because no one, in his opinion, was good enough to be anywhere near him or in his home, his body lie rotting for two weeks before his neighbors began to smell it decaying and called authorities to come check on him.   Flies, maggots, beetles and rats were feasting on his corpse when the police found it.  The ooze from his decaying corpse had dripped into the fine woodwork of his living room floor and ruined it.  It all had to be torn up and disposed of due to the smell that could not be washed away.  His perfectly aligned books and paintings were also ruined from the odor of his rotting body and had to be disposed of.   His entire, meticulously built home was gutted and repaired with the most basic and common of drywall and other building materials.  A common, middle class man eventually bought the place.  He worked hard, but wasn’t a home body, not really.  So he let the yard grow wild.  It eventually resembled a dandelion forest as his lack of proper maintenance allowed said flower to completely take over.  No sign that a perfect critic and man had once tended to a perfectly manicured lawn remained.   All was rather common and benignly undisciplined.  It was all very normal now.

As for The Critic’s body, it was roughly autopsied and eventually buried in an old, rarely used grave yard somewhere south of his once perfectly ordered home.  His grave was marked with a single crooked, cracked stone which read, “Here Lies The Critic.   A Man Who Will Forever Be Remembered For Just How Perfect He Was.”

Turkeys Revolt, Behead Their Captures

Turkey About To Behead Its Capture

Turkey About To Behead Its Capture

Fort Wayne, Indiana.  In unexpected and shocking news today, a band of renegade Thanksgiving turkeys broke free of their confinement cells and beheaded those who were about to behead them. “We’ve simply grown tired of members of our species being killed and eaten every Thanksgiving,” said one of the ax-wielding turkeys earlier. “We have feelings, too, and, by god, we will fight you humans with every once of our beings until the mindless slaughter of our people ends!” These were the last words the turkey said before being torn to shreds by one of the large hunting hounds released into the renegade flock to destroy it. All turkeys not killed by the hounds will be beheaded and shipped to stores in plenty of time for Thanksgiving. Thus, though this incident is certainly an inconvenience for the families of those killed, it should in no way alter the holiday dinner plans of anyone else.

Santa Confesses, “I’m A Jew!”

The Rabbi Santa Clausenberg

The Rabbi Santa Clausenberg

“Not only am I a Jew,” Santa said today, “I’m a Rabbi, too. I know this will, in all likelihood, get the panties of Christendom rolled up into a bunch, but I could stay silent no more. You see, I happen to love kids, and I love giving them gifts to make them happy even more. So, back when Christmas first came along, I saw it as a great opportunity to make a lot of Christian kids happy too, not just the Jewish kids I secretly gave dradles to during Hanukkah. I had a perfectly good toy-making shop in the North Pole that my great Uncle Saul left me, and I decided to put it to good use making toys. I’ve always been popular with the Elves who live in the North Pole, so I hired a few dozen of them to help me out, and we’ve been cranking out toys ever since. Christians just always assumed I must be a Christian because I give out toys at Christmas time, but I’m not. I stayed silent because, well, Christians can be quite the anti-Semitic bigots at times, and I just didn’t want to deal with it. But, enough is enough. I’m Santa. I’m Jewish. And I’m a Rabbi. If anyone isn’t good with that, too bad. Deal with it. I gotta go know. There’s only six weeks til Christmas, and I’ve a sh*t load of work to do before then. Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Merry Christmas to all!”

The Loiterer

Loitering5A well-groomed man in a jogging outfit stands to the right of an entrance to a bank on a cool Fall morning. He’s just standing there, with his hands in his pockets, gazing at people passing by and periodically smiling at those who enter and exit the bank. After about an hour, a man in a business suit comes out of the bank and approaches the man. He identifies himself as a bank employee and begins to question the man in the jogging outfit.

Bank Employee: Is there something I can help you with, Sir?

Man: No. Is there something I can help you with?

Bank Employee: Yes, actually, there is. You can tell me why you’re standing out in front of this bank.

Man: No. I can’t.

Bank Employee: What do you mean you can’t? There must be a reason why you’re just standing out here. What is it?!

Man: I’ve no reason. I’m just standing here. Is that a crime?

Bank Employee: Yes! Yes it is! You can not just stand in front of this bank all day and harass our customers. It’s just wrong.

Man: I’m not harassing anyone. I’m just standing here. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll move.

Bank Employee: Great idea. Have a nice day. You weirdo, you.

The man takes his hands from his pockets, steps away from the right side of the bank entrance, and crosses over to the left side. He then places his hands back into his pockets and resumes his people gazing.

Bank Employee: WHAT?! You CAN NOT DO THAT! You need to leave from here or I’m getting the manager!

Man: No. I like it right where I am. I’m not bothering anyone. Go ahead. Get the manager. I’m not moving.

The bank employee grunts and storms back into the bank. 5 minutes later he returns with another, older, man who says he’s the bank manager.

Manager: Hello, Sir. My employee here tells me you are being unreasonable and are refusing to leave from the front of the bank. I’m going to have to insist you move from here. You are bothering our customers and creating an unnecessary disturbance.

Man: OK. Fine. I’ll move. Again.

The man moves from the left side of bank to the edge of the sidewalk directly in front of the bank. He then stands, smiles, and stares directly at the bank manager. He does not block the bank doors nor the manager in any way, as he is about 12 feet away from them. Regardless, the manager is infuriated by the man’s move.

Manager: That’s it! You CAN NOT stand here in front of this bank like this! You are BOTHERING people! You are making a damn fool out of yourself! There are laws, mister! And you NEED to abide by them! Now MOVE!!!

The manager charges up to the man and shoves him. The man trips and falls backward onto the street. He lands hard on the back of his head and is killed instantly.

Manager: Oh, GREAT!!! That’s just bloody great! Now I’ve a dead guy lying in the goddamn street in front of my bank!!! Now I’ve got to call the cops and wait til they come to haul him away! Just GREAT!!! This will REALLY bother my customers!!! The cops better get here quick and clean this mess up. I’ve got a goddamn business to run. Goddamn, friggin’ loiterer! Messed up my whole day! When will people learn?! WHEN???! IT IS NOT OK TO LOITER!!!

The manager then takes his cell phone from his suit pocket and dials 911. He begins to explain to the operator what happened as people briskly walk past the scene. Those who came by to do business in the bank do not enter it. They are too bothered by what they see in front of them to go inside.