by Zoltan James
I had a strange dream last night in which I parachuted into a country where all the folks had no heads or arms. Just a torso and very good looking legs. The majority of this population was employed as part-time manikins in department stores, or as tackling dummies for football teams.
The neighboring country to the east was comprised of brainiacs, people who only had heads. No bodies. Just handsome and very smart heads. This country was mostly comprised of global warming scientists and television pundits, or “talking heads.”
Sadly, the torsos and the heads did not get along. In fact, the torsos and the heads were on the verge of war.
The leader of the first country, the head torso, (or the head headless torso to be more accurate) wanted to lead a “call for arms,” but no one knew how to respond. They couldn’t pound their fists or gnash their teeth. This led to a national day of frustration in which bodies filled the streets and public squares. According to news reports, much nervous twisting and toe-twiddling was observed.
Meanwhile, across the border to the east, the head brainiac implored his people to invade the torsos. “We must face our enemy. Now is the time to run them over,” he yelled to his legion of heads. But his cry fell on deaf ears. No one knew how to respond to this call to action. This resulted in a great frustration among the body-less politic. Evening news reports showed a mass of heads sitting in the streets nervously blinking, twitching and flicking their tongues.
Eventually, due to the inability and lack of will on both countries to enact a kinetic military action, a truce was signed. No one could vouch for how a signatory action might have taken place, nonetheless, both the heads and bodies agreed it was in their best interests not to wage war against one another. And, so great peace came upon these neighboring countries.
But, then, to the north and to everyone’s surprise, the land of arms (people with no heads or torsos – just very strong arms) declared war and easily defeated the heads and torsos in hand-to-hand combat. The arms were merciless. The bodies ran for the hills and heads rolled.
The moral of this story (or dream, to be exact) is if you’re going to go to war, it’s far better to be armed than smart and good looking.
Then, I awoke because my right arm was asleep, my left leg had a cramp, and my head hurt from drinking too much wine the night before. But, boy was I glad to see my ugly mug in the mirror and know that I was in one piece.
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