“It is the function of the citizen to keep the government from falling into error.” Robert H. Jackson
The title sounds like one of those movie serials from the ’30s and ’40s, doesn’t it? The kind where this happened:
CAPTAIN YANCY: Yer surrounded, Thing! Give up! You can’t get away!
THING: Come and get me, coppers! You’ll never take me alive! (RAT-A-TAT-TAT-TAT!)
Nope, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the Thing, Ben Grimm, from the Fantastic Four. The guy who looks like an animated pile of rocks, and whose best-known saying is, “It’s clobberin’ time!”
I recently put together a plastic model of the Thing. Yeah, I still put models together, and paint them, too. I’m a lot better than when I was a kid, and when I put together, say, an Me-109 I’d glue the propeller and wheels so they wouldn’t turn, and smear glue all over the cockpit so you couldn’t see the pilot inside. I don’t do that anymore.
I’m nearly professional, not that it mattered with this particular Thing.
A woman I know, who thought he was adorable, what with his blue underpants, wanted him. As an aside, superheroes don’t have genitals, or even bulges, like the Thing or the Hulk, although it is okay for Wonder Woman to have breasts the size of watermelons. Go figure.
This woman lived in Dillingham, Alaska. The only thing Dillingham, which is a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere, is known for is because the police chief, who, rumor has it, used to be a dishwasher, accepted a 2006 Homeland Security grant to install 80 cameras around town. That’s one camera for every 30 residents.
He claimed terrorists could come into Dillingham, never mind the fact there are no roads in and out of town. Everything that comes in, comes in by plane and barge.
Dishwasher, indeed. Moron.
This is Alice down the rabbithole stuff, heading into the Red Queen’s logic of sentence first, verdict afterwards. Guilty until proven innocent, and you can’t prove that. Curiouser and curiouser!
Anyway, I packed the Thing into a box and sent him off. That’s the last I heard of him for three weeks. At first I thought he had gotten lost in the mail, then the next thing I hear is that he had showed up, not in such good shape.
The box had been crushed, opened and crudely taped. When my friend opened it, the Thing was lying in pieces at the bottom.
I know what happened. Someone at the Dillingham post office decided to check the box for drugs, so they opened it, ripped the Thing to pieces, didn’t leave a note or any explanation, dumped the pieces in the box, and gave it to my friend like that.
Some people need to get a life. And find a brain lying around somewhere. The Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz could do better than this.
Apparently these people are so stupid they don’t realize models are not hollow. My friend was able to fit his pieces back together, but had to buy some glue to make them stick. And he was stuck. I really glued him together, so whoever tore him apart had to put some effort into it.
Yay for the War on Drugs! It makes bureaucrats even dumber than they already are!
I wonder if these people enjoyed destroying the Thing? Latent sadists, maybe? Or did they just con themselves they were doing good instead of bad? When people do bad things they have to always delude themselves it’s for a good cause. The road to Hell and good intentions, you know.
You know what I wished had happened? When whoever decided to tear the Thing’s arm off started twisting his arm, I wish they had heard:
“It’s clobberin’ time!”
BIFF! BAFF! POW! OW! PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! OW! THAT HURTS! KICK! KICK! OUCH! HEADBUTT! YIKES! ELBOW! KNEE! OOF! SPIN! SPIN! SPIN! TOSS! OH NO! FOLD! FOLD! FOLD! SPINDLE! MUTILATE! ACK! HEADLOCK! NOOGIE! NOOGIE! GACK! WEDGIE! HELP! ATOMIC WEDGIE! MOMMIE!
Take that, Bad Guys!
It used to be that superheroes like Captain America fought foreign enemies like the Nazis and the Reds. Now we have domestic enemies! As far as I’m concerned, those people in the Post Office should dress like Ming the Merciless!
Too bad I can’t draw! Or write in any style that isn’t manic and uses lots of exclamation points! I’d make comic books in which the superheroes took on domestic enemies like SWAT teams who break into innocent peoples’ houses and ventilate old ladies (when they aren’t ventilating each other)! And beat up those moronic TSA guards! And pound some sense into the people at the Post Office! Yeah, that’s the way to go! Woo hoo!
After all, we all want justice, don’t we? So does the Thing!
I only have one more wish. And you know what it is.
Thing, do your stuff!
Bob Wallace has a degree in Journalism. Formerly a reporter and editor, now an author, Bob penned I Write What I See. Visit his Shameless Book Promotion Page and his Page Full o' Fun. He also blogs. Bob has previously written articles and essays which have been published by LewRockwell.com, The Libertarian Enterprise, Sierra Times, Strike-the-Root, and The Price of Liberty, in addition to Endervidualism.