It's A Good Thing Mr. Cheney Shot His Friend And Not That Quail
If there's one thing I remember from the two weeks of community college I took before I was kicked out for my views on taking care of Mother Earth (and my payment of tuition in eco-friendly dirt coins), it's that there's lots of different ways to say "happy". I can't remember most of them right now, so I'm just going to say it: I'm happy, my fellow Children of the Sun and the Earth's Sweet Love. Happy that our Vice President and oil fiend and tree bark eater, Dick Cheney, chose to shoot a friend of his on a hunting trip, thus sparing the life of the quail -- a type of innocent bird that's beautiful and precious -- that he was originally after.
Isn't it obvious what happened, friends? Mr. Cheney saw the light. He heard me or one of my compatriots protesting or talking about probably protesting one day while we were eating vegan burritos, and something in his cold, constantly-restarted heart thawed a bit. He did not realize it as he went about his Vice Presidential duties, continuing to condone the slaughter of Iraqi squirrels and accepting donations from lobbyists who want to kill Indian Casinos -- which is apparently some type of cat -- but it was there. It told him, "Dude, Mr. Cheney. What have these beautiful, Earthy creatures ever done to you? You were once an innocent child, in love with animals and able to smile without looking sinister. Now, you have grown up, but you no longer love them. You probably should have gotten that money from Jimbo, because even though money is cold and capitalistic and made out of the rain forest, it beats eating pieces of the couch and crab grass sometimes. Man, I'm hungry."
Mr. Cheney -- he's the Vice President, I think -- thought of these things. They swirled around in his head like the oil stew that he eats at night, and as he went to go on his hunting trip to murder a quail made by nature, they made him think about animals, and about his fellow man. One thing lead to another, and Mr. Cheney, disgusted with what his friend was going to do with him, shot him with shotgun pellets. The quail lived, staying beautiful and majestic, and crapping and mating beautifully and naturally.
Now, friends of the fern, I do not condone the harming of my fellow friends of the fern. We are all as different as different rainbows, and just like rainbows, we deserve to be able to exist at the same time without shooting each other with guns. Did you ever realize that animals don't even have guns? They never even invented them. Man is the only creature who ever invented a gun. That's a heavy burden to bear, my friends. And unless a shark in the near future invents a shark gun to kill his fellow sea creatures with, we're going to bear that burden forever.
The point is, dudes, man's hatred and the guns that he invented out of that hatred is an ugly thing. Man is a living creature and is beautiful just like all life, but more importantly, he is ugly and disgusting. If you're well-adjusted and balanced and respectful like I am, you can deal with that, and live your life co-existing with man, and trying to do your part by writing Internet columns and protesting out front of the elementary school, where little men called children eat lunches filled with slabs of meat and milk ripped out of cows. But if you're pushed a little too far, like our new friend Mr. Cheney, the ugliness can get to you, and you want to go to extreme lengths to help animals and preserve the beauty of life. Extreme lengths like trying to take someone's life.
My friends, I think there's a little lesson in here for all of us. For a second there, Mr. Cheney obviously had a good thing going on. It had dawned on him that there he was in nature, about to do something seriously not cool and use a gun on an animal that was just sitting there, peacefully shitting. But he took that good thing and he turned it into hatred for his fellow man's hatred, and used that hatred to show that he appreciated the beauty of life but the ugliness of man life by trying to take the life away in hatred. Man, if you read that while you watch the Wizard of Oz and play Pink Floyd, I know it'll make a lot more sense. I'm going to write Mr. Cheney a letter and tell him that. I mean, not like, now, but I definitely will in the future. I need to get some food in me first. I wonder if one of my brothers or sisters of the soil would be cool with me munching on them for a little while?
All right, so Mr. Cheney was planning on eating his hunting partner. That's cool with me. What he did was take something that was real negative, and try to turn it into a good situation that would benefit everyone: the quail, still alive; the friend, shown the error of his ways and unable to shoot any more; Mr. Cheney, with a full stomach and a better understanding of other people's perspectives. It's too bad the media had to come in and ruin things for him. That's man for you, man. He is an ugly creature amongst beautiful life.
