"COOL! / NO! / COOL! / NOOOOOOOOOOO!"Mankind is being flung towards the far horizon at speeds greater -- and heights taller -- than God ever intended. "Oh, Why, Oh, Why," wail the mourners, as another man flies past, overhead. If the synagogue is where you sin, then the dialogue is where you dial. "Help Me!" in one tongue is "Tongue!" in another langue and "Merengue!" in yet another harangue. Lemon gets to be a risk. Grape-fruits get to be a risk. The fields molder and a cry spreads through the land. Oh Lord, why is there motor? There is motor, sayeth The Lord, to impress thine enemy. But mine enemy hath motor. Sayeth not hath, sayeth The Lord, for that is my very verb form. Very well then, but my enmity 'hath' motor. Thine enmity hath motor? shrieketh The Lord, thou dost bringeth the disnomer and the piss-nomer in thy protestations and for that -- I shall now smite thy fleeting moment of achievement in sport. And The Lord smote the pilgrim's second place finish, and the pilgrim, in turn, smote his younger brother, with a loud clap to both ears, and the younger brother, then suffering from a disturbance, smote the television set with a thirty-ought-six, even as the set continued to speak, " . . . in corporation we trust . . . ," a minor miracle.
