Subject: Manse Diaries: Iceland Today!
Date: Sun, 22 Mar 1998 12:21:41 GMT
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (MegaLiz)
Organization: MotPU: Where Binary Moodswings are ALWAYS on the Menu
Newsgroups: alt.foot.fat-free, alt.slack
We've had a fairly scronky weekend here. As usual, my main mission is
to SURVIVE and strive to reduce the week's sleep deficit. Friday
night, I was hopeful that Bobo would STAY asleep, but not because I
drugged her, just because I'm EVER OPTIMISTIC about stuff like that.
At bedtime, I snuggled down with an article about DAMS. Now I LIKE
dams, but I never heard of all the dam damage this fella was
outlining. He only MENTIONED the salmon problems, for instance, but
went on to give information on hugely complicated dam thievery, and to
offer such tickling tidbits as: the desert state of ARIZONA boasts the
largest number of registered boats per capita of all the fifty states.
Maybe there is LESS wrong with Arizonans than I expected, I thought.
Being overinformed about things like 250 year floods lulled me to
sleep. I haven't found a SINGLE thing that I can read nowadays to read
myself AWAKE, and just for the sake of being redundant all over again,
I'll say that this article was no exception. When I read the same
words over a few times, due to sleepy eyeball spasms, I knew it was
time to roll over and dream of desert cotton fields. So I did.
I simultaneously scrambled out of bed, pulling all the covers with me,
whimpered and woke up convinced that a dam explosion or A GIANT BEAVER
was to blame. Now, I should mention that I am NOT the sort of person
who is bothered by storms, but this, THIS was the kind of thunder that
makes you BELIEVE that it is a PERSONAL ASSAULT in progress. Having
the ABSOLUTE CONVICTION that a tree was going to fly through my
window, I promised the dog that I would never make fun of her low
barometer nerves ever again. The Rev thought that we were hilarious,
but then, he's INSANE, being a foulweatherphile and all that.
I only mention this because it gave me Slack. It gave me Slack to be
scared like a dog with a two-year-old's brain, or at least, like a dog
that ASPIRES to have a two-year-old's brain, in at least ONE form.
I've been vaguely worried, in a soulless sort of way, that I may have
misplaced my soul somewhere. Somehow, being repeatedly awakened by
huge bursts of electricity that X-rayed right through my walls AND my
eyelids did the trick, and a Slackhappy couple of days followed.
In further Slack:
This morning, after miraculously having had ENOUGH sleep, I tuned into
our local WORLD VIEW channel and found a charming program called,
"Iceland Today." The Icelandic host and his pals seemed to find
everything that they said HUGELY entertaining and chuckled as often as
they spoke. The tragically coiffed host and his elderly sidekick were
being regaled by a woman who was evidently explaining some funny
things about a COFFIN on the set. The host leaned over and petted it
regularly, and at least twice, he pushed it with his finger to show me
and the rest of the Icelandic audience how lightweight it was. I
concluded that it was a new kind of STYROFOAM COFFIN, which may be all
they need up there in the winter wonderland. It may be the latest
innovation in ergonomic back protection for the career pallbearer: I'm
sorry to admit that I can't report on the implications with any degree
of accuracy, since Icelanders talk FAR TOO FAST for me. The only word
I understood was "cheap!".
The next segment cannot be translated in any meaningful way. I'm
pretty sure. Let me just say that there was a very lifelike looking
clownman with hopefully fake, badscary teeth SCREAMING at people. I
deduced that it was the Scary Clown on the Street segment.
The NEXT segment was a nicely produced field trip to an office/studio
where people who call themselves Omegans film various people sitting
around a wooden table. The proprietor proudly showed the interviewer
and her cameraperson hundreds of videotapes they had generated of
people sitting at THE TABLE. The word "Tennessee" began to creep into
the interview with increasing frequency until an American
Televangelist appeared, speaking what is generally considered English,
"We're just real proud t'be bringin' Christian Television here to
Iceland. Now some folks thank that television ministers mean scandals
and bad behavior--but you know what?--all sorts of ministers fall from
The Path. It's just that when they do it on TV, ya know, everybody
hears about them a lot more!"
"So would you say that this is God's Country?" queried the lovely
The Televangelist beamed, "If it idint, it will be now!"
This kinda pissed me off, I mean, if ANYBODY doesn't NEED Tennessee's
Jesus, it's the people of ICELAND. They don't need ANYTHING. Or do
they? Maybe they're ALREADY mostly Christian and soon to be mostly
normal. I prefer to think that they're letting the televangelist in
for pure entertainment value and that they'll mercilessly tease him
with their new floating burial-at-sea coffins just for laughs.