The Drowning Howl: Saturday August 6, 2022
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Hey, who was that last guy? Geez, what an ass. We never insult our readers like that here at the Drowning Howl. Ow-oooo! Gurgle-gurgle... Last week an insufficient number of severely overworked health care professionals were forced to cut back on vital services until reinforcements arrive. While no one's sure what to do about the hypochondriacs, all non-terminal patients have been asked to stay home and self-medicate in the usual fashion. Advil and alcohol are probably all you need, but, if you're really hurting, they say that some street drugs are more effective at pain relief than anything you could get in a hospital. If these steps don't work, or you can't find a reliable dealer, then they advise you to make friends with the pain. After all, it couldn't be a more loyal companion; the very first to greet you when you wake up in the morning, and the very last to kiss you goodnight. You'll get to know each other intimately as you wait for this crisis to end, and that's a promise. Notorious demagogue Bollocks Jones has been ordered to pay over forty-nine million dollars in damages to mass shooting victims falsely accused by him of staging their widely reported tragedy in a conspiracy to advance gun control legislation. Jones clearly went too far this time, targeting a whole grieving community. Such communities can band together and pool their resources to secure the kind of legal support that is out of reach to most individuals. If Jones had picked a solitary target for his commercial lies, like, say, a half starved web author with popular music and comedy to steal, perhaps the disturbing truth of how much harm can be caused by a false accusation would never have made it onto prime time. It's a good thing he's more reckless than his finger-pointing colleagues in the commercial media. Speaking of victim bashers, the influential non-profit Anaesthesia Interventional has accused our allies on the Eastern front of jeopardizing civilians by placing weapons in built up areas. According to the group, if local civilians are killed by an outside attack, it's the target's fault. We must therefore assume that they would be more careful to protect the rest of us if their offices suddenly became the focus of merciless air strikes. Maybe they would park their cars in the nearest forest, where no collateral damage could fall upon innocent bystanders, and walk the rest of the way to work in the morning. Or maybe they would paint a bright bull's eye on their roof to assure bombers of 100 percent accuracy that spares the neighbours. Chances are very good, however, that they would not be attacked in precisely the way they want. With the government grip finally loosening on virus control, music festivals have returned for the summer of 2022. Get together with your peers and have fun. Enjoy the festivities. Enjoy the event. Just don't expect too much from the music. Don't listen too closely or you will hear too much missing. Things have gone back to normal, with artists pushed off the stage to make room for businessmen with guitars. If your first priority is to write a good song, rather than being a money-making star, there is absolutely no place for you in the music business today; there is only a dubious place for your songs in the top ten - at least until you find out they've been stolen. Perhaps it was always like that, and the few precious songs that proved to be timeless have always been written by outsiders who never received a scrap of recognition. It would sure explain a lot. And, finally, a little girl's lemonade proved to be life-saving as a would-be mass murderer turned himself and his automatic weapon in to authorities yesterday. The man confessed that he was on his way to get even with the cruel world when he heard a child's voice from a lemonade stand ask him if he was thirsty. Since it was a very hot day, he said he was, but he had no money to pay for the refreshment. The girl poured him a drink anyway, no charge, because he looked like he needed it. The small act of kindness reassured him that people are not that bad and at once he abandoned his evil mission. Lucky for us all, he stayed off the other side of the road where a little boy was indiscriminately bombing passers-by with water balloons from his second-storey window. You know, if I ever fathered a child, I hope it would be a girl. I could drop dead of old age before she transformed into a woman. And that's all for the Drowning Howl for another week. Glad you could join us. |
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| © 2022. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved. |
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