“Now I need third floor flood insurance!” Yes, in the era of global climate change, floods will routinely imperil residents who dwell above the first two floors of buildings. If you think that only ground level residents will face water, mud, and vermin: think again. You will face water, mud, and vermin, too, and not just 100 Year Vermin or 50 Year Vermin, but a regular vermin, a perennial vermin, an exasperated vermin. Lo, the floods will weaken the earth in April, and in the first week of May, cometh the loosening. To the holidays we must assign different names. May 5th, for example, will henceforth be known as Sinkhole de Mayo.
 “My sinew hurts!” Rather than suffering from painful teeth, bones, and joints, the newest ache centers around connective tissue, and at that, we mean tendons. We mean tender tendons. By this, we are in-sinew-ating everything. People at the doctor; People in the HR cubicle; People at the alternative lifestyle kiosk; People at the guru; People at the blood pressure cuff in Wal-Mart all complaining of sinew. “My sinew hurts!” in Cleveland. “J’ai mal au sinew!” in Quebec. “Me sinew pains me so!” in the stands at Sheff Wednesday Football Club. Sinew Jack City, as they say, with so much sinew bound in gauze and medicated strips.
 “Water is being turned into products that’ll prevent it from being water again!” Water becomes ink, and paint, and Orange Julius, and wallpaper paste, and conditioner. Meanwhile, fish aren’t very salty, except for a shark, which is salty, and while it isn’t a dolphin, which is, instead, a whale, a shark, by virtue of its salt content, contains less water than a whale, such as a dolphin, or a fish, except a kin-shark. So, the shark will not suffer this appropriation of waters as much, but a fish and a whale will suffer, should we transform more water into consumerism, and desktop snow ornament, and nuclear coolant, and brake fluid, and McDonalds.
 “Institutional culture is causing me to second-guess my lifestyle!” As a young adult entering the job market, you craved Institutional Culture—especially throwing your tie over shoulder at lunch spots, and at that, ordering the string beans w/ hot peppers. Back then, people shanked you in the traditional way: with false accusations after you vacated the break room. Today, the leaders of Institutional Culture wear beatific smiles and they don’t shank you, at all, so much as they shank the whole Going Concern, at once. By that, I mean they bankrupt the Corporation amid great festivity. Second-guessing as the balloons drop. Yep: that’s America.
 “A person can’t just be a ‘Son of a Gun’ (singular)!” A person could be a son of a gun and a son of a gun, and still turn into a relatively dependable taxpayer, depending upon her or his recessive phenotypes. Gregor Mendel studied this phenomenon in his table of hybridization. A person could be a son of a gun and a son of another weapon, or a person could be a son of another weapon and a son of another weapon, and still just want to give back to the community. Again, consider the recessive phenotype. Either way, even Mendel (“Duh!”) would confirm that a person couldn’t just be a son of a gun (singular). Lest she or he be a Deity.