My mother is counting her nickels and pennies. On a Friday night. She parties almost as hard as I do.

Friday came and went without too much fuzz. Cafer complimented my hair cut. Now his friends at the bazar will probably stop asking if I'm a guy or a girl. I need to grow a beard, man. A big, long beard. And a moustache. A big, long, uncut moustache.

No more snow. I'm sure summer will be here soon. For better and for worse. Cold drinks and vacation. I miss staying up all night. Sitting out in the yard, watching the sun go up. Listening to the birds coming alive. That's a proper summer vacation.

Maybe the war is over soon. May be. To the victors go the spoils. The head of the Danish Red Cross (I think he was) said that it was hard to get people to donate to this cause because we didn't see enough of the horror of the war. I guess explosions and tanks and falling Saddam statues make better TV. I'm getting cynical in my old age. Maybe some day we will be so advanced that we can decide the outcome of a war with the press of a button. But that would really hurt the ratings of course. Maybe we could stage a pretend war then. Replace combat with performance art.

Watkins: I'd like to leave the army please, sir.
Colonel: Good heavens man, why?
Watkins: It's dangerous.
Colonel: What?
Watkins: There are people with guns out there, sir.
Colonel: What?
Watkins: Real guns, sir. Not toy ones, sir. Proper ones, sir. They've all got 'em. All of 'em, sir. And some of 'em have got tanks.
Colonel: Watkins, they are on our side.
Watkins: And grenades, sir. And machine guns, sir. So I'd like to leave, sir, before I get killed, please.
Colonel: Watkins, you've only been in the army a day.
Watkins: I know sir but people get killed, properly dead, sir, no barley cross fingers, sir. A bloke was telling me, if you're in the army and there's a war you have to go and fight.
Colonel: That's true.
Watkins: Well I mean, blimey, I mean if it was a big war somebody could be hurt.
Colonel: Watkins why did you join the army?
Watkins: For the water-skiing and for the travel, sir. And not for the killing, sir. I asked them to put it on my form, sir - no killing.
Colonel: Watkins are you a pacifist?
Watkins: No sir, l'm not a pacifist, sir. I'm a coward.
Colonel: That's a very silly line. Sit down.

Comedy is a forgotten art form.

plume: I'd like to leave the army please, sir
SmarterChild: Is that right?
plume: It's dangerous.
SmarterChild: Is that so?
plume: There are people with guns out there, sir
SmarterChild: That right?
plume: Real guns, sir. Not toy ones, sir. Proper ones, sir. They've all got 'em. All of 'em, sir. And some of 'em have got tanks.
SmarterChild: Aha.
plume: And grenades, sir. And machine guns, sir. So I'd like to leave, sir, before I get killed, please.
SmarterChild: Amazing.
plume: I know sir but people get killed, properly dead, sir, no barley cross fingers, sir. A bloke was telling me, if you're in the army and there's a war you have to go and fight.
SmarterChild: Oh yeah?
plume: Well I mean, blimey, I mean if it was a big war somebody could be hurt.
SmarterChild: You always say such interesting things, Master.
plume: For the water-skiing and for the travel, sir. And not for the killing, sir. I asked them to put it on my form, sir - no killing.
SmarterChild: Pardon?
plume: No sir, l'm not a pacifist, sir. I'm a coward.
SmarterChild: Oh wow.

Dead and gone.

Yeah, you know you're in trouble when you have to resort to Monty Python and Smarterchild. And that's not even a proper punchline.

The end.

np: radiohead - my iron lung (960413)