Questions of Earth-Shattering Unimportance

Have you ever noticed the tremendous influence Ella Fitzgerald had on Kurt Cobain?  That’s funny–neither have I.

Who says Steve Coogan is funny, and why?  Isn’t the alter ego of Alan Partridge just a self-satisfied twit?  

Would you allow me to apologize for being presumptuous as well as pretentious in jumping to premature conclusions regarding the Woody Allen-Dylan Farrow scandal?  It’s not my place to judge either of them, and I’m sorry for having assumed before that I had the right to.  A merry old friend of mine once said, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”  He also said, “Judge not, lest ye be judged,” or maybe another character in the same book said it; I couldn’t tell you for sure, as I’ve never read the goddamned thing from cover to cover.

If a robot in a rowboat fell overboard, would he sink?  Could he swim?  How do you know if a robot’s a he or a she anyway?  Do they have genitals, or are they like G.I. Joes and Barbie dolls?  If G.I. Joe kicked Ken’s ass for being a so-called liberal hippy commie faggot, would Barbie fall for Joe or slap his face in Ken’s defense?  These are questions that must be raised, along with hands and sweet potatoes.

What’s the best way to spend your life?  Should you go it alone or devote every spare moment you have to social networking?  

Which would be more exciting, meeting Mark Zuckerberg in real life or having him as a Facebook friend?

How can you define your priorities?  How do you decide what to do first when everything’s always happening all at once?  

Is it a good idea to point out people’s rudeness to them in public?  If someone’s yapping on his phone on the subway, should you stick a rolled-up sock in his mouth?

How do you decide what to read?  Do you stick with nonfiction or turn to made-up stories?  Do you have time to memorize poetry?  Whose work speaks to you the most clearly?  Whose do you abhor or ignore?

T.S. Eliot wrote that humankind cannot handle too much reality, while Einstein said reality didn’t exist.  If that’s the case, how important can reality be?  (I mean, really.)

Which of the following best approximates your overall attitude towards worrying:

“Worry, worry, worry, worry is all I can do.”  B. B. King (no relation to Martin Luther)

“Don’t you worry ’bout a thing.”  Stevie Wonder

“I don’t worry ’bout a thing, ’cause I know nothing’s gonna be all right.”  Mose Allison

“Don’t worry; be happy.”  Bobby McFerrin

“Don’t worry about a thing, ’cause every little thing’s gonna be all right.”  Bob Marley

“Never worry; never moan.  I will leave you all alone.”  Neil Young (That might be a misquote.)

“Don’t you worry about me; I’ll get along.”  Frank Sinatra

My girlfriend won’t stop sending text messages while we’re having sex.  Should I try texting her while we’re in the act?

Would stop signs in a battlefield help bring about peace?

If a suicide bomber blows himself up in class, should he get an A+? (Did you see the recent story in the New York Times?  Sorry to keep plugging that rag.  Anyway, it actually happened in Iraq, only it was the teacher who blew himself up, by accident.  Apparently, his last words were “D’oh!”  His students probably would have laughed at him if they hadn’t exploded first.)

Since I fell and grazed my face on the escalator steps the other day, my wife asked me to wear an eye patch to protect the wound from air pollution.  Would you recommend going with glasses or a monocle?

If Ray Kurzweil’s right and we all eventually turn into cyborgs, will we have enough natural resources to fuel ourselves?  Will we have to establish co-dependent relationships in order to change each other’s batteries?  Will we plug ourselves in when we go to bed at night?  If we change our minds and decide we’ve had enough of existence, will we be able to permanently switch ourselves off?  What will be the best way to ensure we’re never reprogrammed?

If George Orwell were alive today, would he say “I told you so” or “I wasn’t writing how-to manuals”?

If Anthony Robbins ever failed to get it up, would he still insist on maintaining that cheesy smile on his face?

What will happen if an international “peace-keeping” force decides to invade Syria on a humanitarian mission?  Will it work or just be a Trojan Horse for yet another imperial corporate hemorrhoid in Mother Earth’s flag-raped ass?

Who’s winning the Olympics?  Which event is Vladimir Putin participating in?  Has he managed to win a medal in the fag-bashing competition yet?

In Word War II, the Yanks called the Germans “Jerries.”  In Vietnam, the Viet Cong were “Charlie.”  In Iraq and Afghanistan, the insurgents or Taliban were “Hadji.”  Why is it that whenever the U.S. goes to war, we always have to give everyone on the other side the same name?  Isn’t that a tad disrespectful?  Besides, in the name of dehumanizing “the enemy,” shouldn’t we be referring to them by numbers instead?  Ah, that’s much more comfortable.  (At least in Rwanda the machete-wielding Hutu banana farmers had the decency to label the Tutsis they butchered with such irrepressible joie du vivre as “cockroaches.”)

Why is it that so many members of our species have such a bad attitude towards other kinds of animals?  Think about it.  How often is it a compliment if you address someone as some other type of creature?  Pig, rat, cow, dog, chicken, snake, monkey, shark, insect, dumb bunny, amoeba, ape, tapeworm, tick, swine, chimp, cuckoo, birdbrain, worm, spider, mouse–all pejorative.  I wonder if members of other species insult one another by saying, “You human!

If you think homophobia’s innocuous, just remember the Nazis came for the gays first (but only because they wanted some fashion tips; you know how much Hitler loved those uniforms and jackboots.  Butch elegance.  They really gave him that S & M feel.  By the way, this is meant as a snub against Nazis, not gays.  Stereotypes in the service of humor are fair game, right?  As long as we don’t forget they’re just stereotypes).

As an American, I feel sad that I may never be able to visit the Middle East.  Not because I’m paranoid about all the Muslims-as-terrorists propaganda we’ve been fed by Hollywood and Washington over the past several decades, but because I feel guilty and ashamed for almost everything we’ve done in the region since–oh, I don’t know–1947?  Isn’t that the year the CIA staged the coup d’etat against democratically elected man of the people (as well as Time Magazine Man of the Year) Mossadegh to preclude him from nationalizing the oil industry?  Luckily, all the wars we’ve been fighting and occupations we’ve been having since then have nothing to do with oil.

If Obama has his way with us and the U.S. continues on its glorious path of fracking the shit out of everything, drilling till the whole world is one big hole, and the Keystone XL Pipeline bursts and poisons the Oglalla Aquifer, contaminating the drinking water supply of half the country’s population, can we change the name of the song to “America the Hideous”?  I get it that he and his buddies want us to have long-term energy independence, but is it worth destroying the entire ecosystem in the process?  Are we in some kind of race with China to see who can be the superdirtiest superpowerful superschmucks? 

Please let me know if you have the answers to any of these questions.  I certainly don’t.


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