Without a Stimulus Package . . .

. . . the supply of condiments could plummet to historic levels.

Against the backdrop of a banking scare, in the early 1930s, Franklin Delano Roosevelt asserted his firm belief that the only thing we had to Fear was Fear itself. It was another Time, another Era, as they say. Today, we have many things to Fear, including a shortage of essential condiments. There may be no Mustard for italics; no horseradish for Chiaroscuro; no capers for toilet pranks; no half & half for feelings of inadequacy; and no salad cubes for trigonometry. Many Americans lack Stimulation, to be sure. They feel listless. So so. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Suction has not worked. Aroma Therapy has not worked as has not worked Art Therapy & Visualization. Deprivation of Celebrity Porn has not worked. The mouse has chewed through the Oleo and Americans could give a damn. The mouse has sniffed the peppermint oil and Americans could give a damn. The mouse has bested the stickytrap and Americans could give a damn. O, for the days of Fear itself. O, to fear sensations. Intuitions. Concepts. Attributes. O, to fear a good, crisp Abstraction, say, as opposed to the green apple flying into the snack bar.

It kicks me in the seat to think of someone being the first to do something. Like, throw a flint at a hazardous material. Or scare the nut out of a squirrel's jaw. Or say something provocative in the middle of the lake. Have you ever seen clouds that slid around like patio doors? Or clouds that looked like sutures after an emergency appendectomy? Or clouds that showed all kinds of favoritism to you-know-who? If I had traveled, I would've missed the man who applied a soft drink as underarm deodorant, I would've missed the Ouija Board talking about tort reform. What if there was (1) a machine; (2) a requirement; (3) a happenstance that, basically, ended up as: Every time one declares his or her candidacy, then one receives an electric shock? At least, then, we'd know a little bitteen about the dedication of our politicians. Look: the weather advisory goes into effect and we purchase all the staples that we otherwise would never purchase: milk, eggs, butter, bread. Still, let's hope said Stimulus succeeds, whatever that means. If not, we'll then hear of Stimuli, a word that sounds like the aftermath of a snakebite.