Sometime in the night they declare war on Idaho. I read about it on the internet with my first cup of coffee. The president, we're assured, is taking bold and decisive action. Bombing strikes are already underway.
At first, I'm confused. Isn't Idaho our friend? More than a friend, isn't it still a part of the country? Admittedly, I don't follow the news as closely as I should, but I had no idea I'd fallen so far out of touch. Apparently, the situation has been deteriorating for some time now. Charts and graphs have been produced annotated with authoritative markings. Aerial photos, too. Grainy surveillance video shows stern-faced men bumping along on tractors. Who knows what they're up to, but everyone agrees it looks like trouble! I learn that peaceful solutions have already been exhausted. To do nothing now would be to invite the unthinkable.
My husband looks up from his crossword puzzle. "Idaho, huh? I understand they have a lot of survivalists, militia types, and other wackos up there. The FBI is forever employing sharpshooters, tanks, and SWAT teams to take out entire compounds of kooks."
Yes, I've heard something or other to that effect, too. What do I really know about Idaho, anyway? Potatoes, same as everyone. I guess they could be the enemy as well as anyone. Why not?
According to the experts, Idaho is now the single biggest threat we've faced so far. Bigger than all the other threats combined. But that's hardly a surprise. It's always the same. Like in the Rocky sequels. In every movie Rocky Balboa has to face a more evil, more indestructible challenger than the one he faced before.
Still, I can't help it; I'm bored, just like I was from Rocky III on. I pour a second cup of coffee and click on my horoscope while Idaho is burning.
No comments:
Post a Comment