The Land of the Screaming Eagles

 Think of a land, far, far away, like where Frodo lives in Lord of the Rings.
 (I don't know that story, but just play along, OK?)

 Now imagine that this land is sectioned into 10,000 states.
 People live happily in 9999 of these states, which leaves    ...the other one.
 In this one particular state, called Jooland, they have a terrible problem.

 Every few days in Jooland, giant screaming eagles fly down from their mountain nests
 and snatch men, women and children off the streets, one at a time, and fly them kicking
 and screaming back to their mountain nests and feed them - alive - to their young.

 Pretty horrible way to die, right?

 Every few days, with more frequency it seems, the giant screaming eagles come down
 from their mountain nests and snatch the innocent off the streets of Jooland to be eaten alive.

 The politicians and the military worked for decades to solve the problem of the screaming eagles
 snatching innocents off the streets. They tried and tried but nothing worked - nothing.

 And then one day a low-IQ internet comedian named Bart came along and offered a suggestion:
"Why not move everyone to one of the other 9,999 states that don't have this problem?
   If you love your children, why raise them here?   Why volunteer them to the eagles?"

 All at once, the people of Jooland pointed at Bart and laughed.
"Bart, what's wrong with you? Can you really be as stupid as people say?
  You're so stupid, we think your IQ of 64 is most certainly exaggerated.
  Can't you figure anything out?  You really can't figure this one out?"

 And Bart replied, "Sorry, I really am that stupid - can you explain it to me?"

 "Well," the people of Jooland replied, "we doubt you'll understand, with your limited
   intelligence, but we'll try and explain it in small words and short sentences for you."

"You see, Bart, the Invisible Ghost in the Clouds wants us to live here.
  The Invisible Ghost told our ancestors thousands of years ago that Jooland,
  with all its screaming eagles, was the Holy Land and we should never leave it.
  Perhaps if you weren't so stupid, you could understand our reasoning."

 Bart was confused, and stood there scratching his head. He knew he wasn't the brightest
 crayon in the box, but he still didn't understand, so he pressed on with his questioning.

"So, ...you're saying ...you'd rather sacrifice your children to the screaming eagles
 than disappoint the Invisible Ghost in the Clouds? Why not move to one of the
 other 9,999 states? Why stay here, where the screaming eagles will eat your kids?
 That doesn't make any sense to me..."

 The people of Jooland doubled over with laughter.

"Bart, you're such a moron - can't use use what little brain God gave you, boy?
  Sure, we love our children, but the Invisible Ghost says we need to stay here.
  You aren't really that stupid that you can't see the obvious - are you?"

"Well," Bart replied, sheepishly, "I don't have any kids myself, so it's pretty hard for me to say
 but I carry a slingglock with me at all times, and I'm pretty good with it. So if a screaming eagle
 tries to get me or Mrs. Bart, he'll be one dead f-ing bird, I can guarantee that.  But I just can't
 figure out why you'd rather the screaming eagles feed your children to their young just to please
 some invisble "cloud being" that science and logic says doesn't even exist. Why do you do that?"

 The people of Jooland laughed themselves into convulsions at the moronic Bartster.
 They agreed Bart was just too stupid to understand their logic.

 Bart decided he wasn't going to be able to persuade them, so he turned to return to his home.
 A half mile into his journey, he turned when he heard the alarm from Jooland.

 Another screaming eagle had snatched another child off the streets.
 He watched as the winged monster flew higher and higher with what looked like
 a six-year old girl struggling in its claws - soon to be chewed to death by the baby eagles.
 

 Bart thought to himself, "The Invisible Ghost in the Clouds must be pleased."


 back to  bartcop.com
 
 
 

Privacy Policy
. .