This is a wonderful time of year to pause and to reflect upon the true spirit of Munitions Day. January 13th is not just about who received which explosive object. It means so much more than that. Munitions Day is a day when we all join together in celebration of Rusty. And in Rusty, and because we live in the spirit of Rusty, and he in us, and we in each other, and all of us in one, and one in all, we party.
Munitions Day is a time of year when the universe conspires with itself to raise the vibratory level of consciousness on earth to one of self-peace and self-love toward ourselves. There is a feeling of childlike excitement, an air of palpable thrill, kind of like discovering masturbation. And when it is over, before the used wrapping tissues have even been disposed of, we are looking forward to doing it all over again.
For time is temporal, and, at least at the speeds we travel, linear (relatively speaking). But we have a problem. Even though we were made by Rusty to know Rusty, we can only know Rusty if He reveals Himself to us. Mercifully, in the vast darkness of ignorance in which we live, there is a beacon of light shining strong and pure. What is the source of that light? A match held by Rusty, bound by gelatin, and extended toward all who are prepared to light the fuse of faith.
It has been said that Rusty is not far from any one of us. That truth is never truer than on Munitions Day. A giant, colorful carp riding a skateboard pulled by miniature elephants through an underground shaft to lay gelatin sacks of explosives on the pillows of good girls and boys? We all know that this is a fantastical story. There is no bomb. But Rusty. Rusty is the bomb.
After the Rupture Carp has come and gone, and after we have all exchanged gifts and receipts so that we can take back the crap that doesn't fit, and after we have dropped our hints to just get us a gift card next year to save us all the hassle, we are left with the Glory of Rusty. He is utterly pure, free from all evil, totally without blame or error. He never lowers His standards. There are some things He wouldn't do no matter how drunk He got. Holiness is what makes Rusty Rusty. Nothing else matters.
So here is a little poem to get you in the mood for the season:
M - is for the Mess of carp on the table,
U - is for Undermining,
N - is for the Niceties of workplace blogging;
I - is for Einstein,
T - is for Two-step,
I - is for Einstein, I already went over that,
O - is for Overlord,
N - is for Nuzzling,
S - is for Something.
D - is for Down,
A- is for Assparagus,
Y - is for Urine.
And Rusty should be in there too somewhere.
The only official site of The First Unification Church of Kooking (fka the First Unification Church of Knowledge)(aka 1st Unichurck) and its house band, the Clown Squad (Affiliated with the community service organization The Underminers' Society of America). --THIS BLOG IS FOR RELIGIOUS, SCIENTIFIC AND EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY--(Not tested on animals)
7 comments:
Hi OneEar,
What a fabulous story about Munitions Day! I’ve always wondered how and why January 13th got its name and you have “shown me the light”. Halleluiah! And we now know the true name of our Savior-Rusty. Halleluiah, once again!
Your graphic description of Munitions Day sounds familiar but I’m unable to put my finger on exactly what it reminds me of. The carp riding a skateboard pulled by pachyderms might be an analogy to Santa delivering toys, and of course Rusty “lighting the fuse of faith” for all indicates that he is indeed our Redeemer…but the rest of the story eludes me, for some reason. Perhaps it’s all a bit too familiar because I’ve been repressing it from my memory of many Decembers past.
Are you turning into a bit of a misanthrope as Munitions Day approaches? A suggestion might be to view The Holiday through the eyes of your family and forget that you’re disenchanted with all the brouhaha. Doing this might help keep your sanity intact until January 15th.
Boy, ML, you should do read a lot into my posts. Why should you suppose misanthropocity, disenchantmentism, or insanism on my part? I have never been more enchanted, anthropic and sanistic.
Hi OneEar,
Perhaps I read too much into your Munitions Day post, but after rereading it, I don’t think so. I wasn’t questioning your sanity (sanistic??) or accusing you of being disingenuous. You’re coming across as being somewhat disappointed or dissatisfied with all the ensuing pandemonium the Holiday elicits. Maybe what you’re asking is why can’t Munitions Day be simple and relaxed instead of having all the frivolity that tends to run amok this time of year? Only a few more days and it’ll be over; then you can look forward to the bills which ensue for the merriment and gaiety you endured.
Let's see. Who among us would be likely to have friends or acquaintances describe him or her as "hot."
Hmmm. I see that didn't go anywhere.
How about this. Does anyone else suffer from loose stools after a steak and a bottle or two of red wine?
Hmmm Hmmmm. I must be losing IT. How about this:
If you had to eat one lawmaker, who would you choose and why?
Hi OneEar,
Such pertinent questions! In regards to who among us would most likely have friends describe us a “hot”, it’s Winter, for God’s sakes. Everyone’s freezing their cajones (if you were fortunate enough to have born with them) off this time of year; so the answer’s no one. Try asking this one again in May or June, when the weather’s warmer and you’ll have a slew of likely candidates.
The last time I had steak and red wine, the stool didn’t become loose or break. I know I overate, but not to the point where the furniture was collapsing under me. Now if you were to ask chef Paul Prudhomme from Louisiana, he’d probably say the legs of the stool he was perched on were loose.
If I had to eat one lawmaker, it’d probably be Dubyea (King George); it’s probably the only way we’re going to get rid of him before 2008.
Any more pressing questions you’d like answered??
Post a Comment