Why some societies are so preoccupied with life, and others so readily dispense of it? (think "homicide bomber", would YOU do it? Hell, I would NOT!!!) I mean, I never even played that game where you see who can hold their breath the longest, because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to return to normal breathing should I be successful, so I always lost. To me dead is dead. There is no negotiating that one. Unless you are my neighbour across the street who died in his living room and is now roaming the house, rattling pots and pans (he liked to cook), and making too much noise for a dead person, to let the living ones sleep in peace at night. Other than that, dead is dead. I think it's a permanent state of not-being. Period. But that just me, maybe other people have other thoughts on the subject, and I say they can start their own blog.
Here in the west, nearly every 60 year old woman looks better than a 30 year old in Afghanistan. What gives? Is "Ponds" cold, face-cream THAT magical? And if it is, then why don't they get it down in hairy ole Kazakhstan (or Armenia) in 1 ton barrels and hand it to all females, 15 and over free of charge, just to improve the scenery? WHY NOT? It will do absolutely nothing but good. I mean, maybe it will even bring peace on earth! Who knows? Look what it has done to the Karadashians, (well, only Kim. The rest are clearly not using it or enough of it!)
This is how I see it: You hand a jar of cream, or better yet, a whole beauty regiment to a shepherd girl in Kamchatka or Mali. She must use it per government edict. Women suddenly, the world over are beginning to look really good. Their wrinkles and weather-beaten harsh looks due to life of sheer misery and hard work, all clear up, promoting angelic glow, and healthy, youthful skin. Men are standing on street corners very confused because they married that gook looking Burka sight-unseen, but when they got home, it turned out to be just an 80 years old woman in a burka. Good looking, but 80 nonetheless. And 80, NO MATTER what you do, is still 80. Eighty year old cannot look 30. No way!!! YOU CAN'T FIX 80. So a lot of these stories begin to circulate in Kasbahs and bazaars from Marrakesh to San Francisco (erase San Francisco. Their 80 year old queens DO NOT wear Burkas. Everyone knows that. So erase San Francisco, and replace it with, say, Sao Paulo Brazil. Much better, because no one ever goes there of their own free will). So the world becomes afflicted with female beauty, and no one has time, nor the inclination to make war. War? - No more!!!
However, the problem now is that this global female-beautification gives people silly notions of living longer as well. We wouldn't want to waste all this beauty on death, now would we? So now we have 80 year old women who look fabulous, sitting around refusing to die. We've already invented cold-facial creams, hair extensions and Viagra, what more do you want us to do? WHAT? So now no one dies, and suddenly we have a global surplus of good-looking old people. This is not a good idea.
In the beginning of the post I thought it was a good idea in order to divert men's feeble minds away from war, but right about now, I'm ready for some kind of conflict in order to cull the herd. I mean, this is not going to work. Think about it: Lots of good-looking old people on government Social Security, and only 147 working people paying into Social Security? Nah! This is not going to work. Bad idea!! If ugly means less years to live, who am I to change the order of nature? Living long is over rated anyway, and looking beautiful is - well, I don't know, is clearly a judgment call.
So please resume the following: 1) Recall all face creams from all hairy countries. 2) Leave women alone. They can be as ugly as they want to be. It's none of our business. NONE. 3) Go ahead and have war if you so desire. 4) If, as a homicide bomber, you have the urge to blow yourself and others up, please do so where no one will miss the population. Like Siberia or Ibiza. (I know this may sound mean, but HAVE YOU BEEN to Ibiza? People are everywhere, happy, dancing, drunk out of their mind day and night, it's a non-stop-partying little Catalan island in the beautiful Mediterranean sea. On second thought, leave Ibiza alone. Why harm people just because they're having fun? On 3rd thought, lots of Germans and French there. So I'm going to leave it up to the homicide bomber to decide what to do with Ibiza.) I'd hate to make such decisions based on nothing but jealousy. And *YES* I'm jealous of people having fun for no reason all the time and everywhere. There, I said it!!!
We should enjoy whatever life we have and celebrate our problems with large stacks of pancakes. That's my belief. For now.
