Monday, August 09, 2004

Happiness is a Warm Gun

A post! I know. Do a little dance. I'll wait...

Today for lunch I asked my coworkers where I should go. The only person to really offer up a suggestion was Derek. He said, "Go to QDoba!" and Scott (another coworker) agreed. He pointed out that what used to be a once or twice a week trip to QDoba for lunch had turned into a next to never thing.

So I went to Chipotle. Derek gave me hell when I got back, "Oh! I see how it is! I tell you to go to QDoba and you go to Chipotle." to which the only response I could offer was, "Yep."

Mainly I went to Chipotle because, even though it has been awhile since we had gone there from work, I had been there somewhat recently. And it had been a lot longer since I had gone to Chipotle. You may be thinking, "A burrito is a burrito. Big whoop." but there is a difference and I was feeling a bit more Chiplotle-ie today.

What does all this have to do with anything? Nothing! Not really. Except to set location and help use up my daily requirement of keystrokes.

Near Chipotle is Sears and I realized as I was driving there that it had been awhile since I last posted a payment to my credit card. So I figured I should do that as well.

Then on the drive there I passed Baskin Robbins and a Chocolate Blast sounded really good so I decided I would stop and get one on the way back.

The Baskin Robbins on 8th Street is a bit on the rundown side of good. It's in a grungy looking strip mall that just screams, "Yargh." But hey, the ice cream there has never killed me and I've so far managed to get free of the grunge before it has consumed me. So yay.

So while I was waiting for the counterperson (Waitress? Hostess? Ice Cream Slave? I dunno) to make the Blast I disconnected my mind and took in the decor that is around the cash register.

One thing I noticed was a craft cross. I don't know the exact name for this craft. I know my mom was a member of the cult and it's pretty popular. It involves white plastic shapes with holes in them and yarn running through the holes. Cross stitch perhaps? That would make it a cross stitch cross. Hmmm...

Nothing about this cross was terribly memorable except that it triggered a sequence of thoughts that I doubt was unique to me. I have a feeling that I heard a comedian talking about something similar once and it just hung around in the back of my mind like a little homeless squatter, waiting to be evicted by the cops or by fire. There's a lot of those little ...things... back there.

The thought (once I dragged it out into the light and beat it soundly for being indigent) was this: If guns had been around during the time of Christ's crucifixion, and he was killed by a firing squad instead of being left to die on the cross, what would be the symbol that the faithful would put on their walls? A smaller wall perhaps? With Jesus standing there in a blindfold with a look of apprehensive anticipation on his face?

It would certainly be more difficult to convert into a recognizable icon (A little square with a hole in the middle maybe). Not to mention a yarn craft work. And think of what it would do to tattoos. And graffiti.

I'm almost certain that was a thought that George Carlin had mentioned wondering about before, but I'm not positive.

And that's basically all I have for now. Something that someone else most likely thought about once quite a while ago. I should be in politics. Have a good day!

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"Boring a hole in the patient’s head creates a door through which the demons can escape, and - viola! - out goes the crazy."