There is an Asian story about a farmer who saw a tiger’s tail swishing between two large rocks. In a moment of haste, he grabbed the tail and pulled.  All of a sudden he realized he had an angry tiger by the tail and only two rocks stood between him and the tiger’s teeth and claws! So there he remained, afraid to loosen his grip on the enraged animal’s tail lest he surely be killed.

A monk happened by and the farmer called out in desperation, “Come over here and help me kill this tiger!”

The holy man said, “Oh, no. I cannot do that. I cannot take the life of another.” Then he went on to deliver a homily against killing. All the while, the farmer was holding tightly to the tail of an angry tiger.

When the monk finally finished his sermon, the farmer pleaded, “If you won’t kill the tiger, then at least come hold its tail while I kill it.”

The monk thought that perhaps it would be all right to simply hold the tiger’s tail, so he grabbed hold and pulled. The farmer, however, turned and walked
away down the road.

The monk shouted after him, “Come back here and kill the tiger!”

“Oh, no,” the farmer replied. “You have converted me!”

There seems to be a fine line between situational ethics on one side and idealism on the other.  It’s so easy to think of the world in black/white terms, but in reality, there are just so many shades of gray.

There’s also probably a message here about hasty actions.

In the spirit of the WWF, I’d like to offer my script for the next presidential debate …

Moderator: In the corner to my liberal left, the Democratic candidate, Barack Obama! And in the corner to my reactionary right, the Republican candidate, John McCain! All right, gentlemen, I want you to shake hands, fist bump, and come out fighting!

McCain: Good evening, and thanks for inviting me. I’d like to open tonight by pointing out that my opponent’s middle name is “HUSSEIN”, as in “Saddam HUSSEIN”!

Obama: Good evening. My opponent’s name is “John”, as in “John Wilkes Booth”!

McCain: Have you heard that Obama can’t account for two years of his life? Could it be that he spent it at a madrassah or terrorist training camp?

Obama: And McCain can’t account for five years of his! POW … maybe! Or maybe he spent the time at the Kremlin, consorting with his comrades and political masters!

McCain: My opponent pals around with terrorists!

Obama: And mine pals around with Barbie!

McCain: My friends, did I mention that that one is black? That his wife is black? And that his kids are black, my friends?

Obama: After five years allegedly spent in a torture chamber, my opponent might be schizophenic, paranoid or both!

McCain: He’s a terrorist!

Obama: He’s a racist!

McCain: Traitor!

Obama: Codger!

Moderator: Thank you, gentlemen! And good night from the Mainstream Media!

As a pre-teen (and even into teenage years), I enjoyed reading Mad Magazine.  It sometimes still gives me a chuckle. I guess an occasional sophomoric chuckle is one of my guilty pleasures (along with South Park, Ren & Stimpy, etc.)  What I always enjoyed, and still do, is the Spy vs. Spy feature.  Something about ironic endings…

Planting The Tomatoes

An old Italian man lived alone in the country. He wanted to dig his tomato garden, but it was very hard work as the ground was hard.  His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison.

The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. If you were here, my troubles would be over. I know you would dig the plot for me.

Love, Dad.

A few days later, he received a letter from his son.

Dear Dad,

Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where I buried the BODIES.

Love, Vinnie.

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day the old man received another letter from his son.

Dear Dad,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances.

Love, Vinnie.