Small, plushly-furred, silvery cat Frolic, was a spy – a tender and wry observer – from Noilednad, the hub of Universe 58, the one in which Asylum Planet Earth floated, a turquoise jewel, around that vermilion temptress, that furacao furnace, the Sun.
Most of the bipeds on planet Earth are inmates. Without exception, the bipeds owned by dogs are inmates. The bipeds owned by cats are in advanced recovery. All people owned by SUVs are psychopaths. A few people partnering with Burmese cats are clowns – healed but hanging out to help with the recovery of the lemming people who dwell in humorless gigagreed, drink blood on Sundays and other feast days, and pauperize their fellow inmates.
Frolic, her bittersweet-chocolate colored pal Jester, and pogblog were watching Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, talking on an ancient televid device. Gyatso was musing about science. He said, roughly, as we recall it, that there was nothing wrong with science – it was just a method. There was nothing wrong with a religion – some people just went too far. There was nothing inherently wrong with politics, some people just got all zealed up and did “dirty politics.” He then coalesced that thought into that a person could have dirty politics, dirty science, and dirty religion.
“Now that’s as tasty as a mouse soufflé,” said Frolic. Her words were secondary to the powerful holothought projections the felinoa fabulosiens could project into the left eye of the holofi enhanced. Most felinoa art-thought is Daliesque – except animated. One could see the mouse soufflé rising in an oven where upon it daliesquely mogrified to a low serving table where, with a crowned mousehead adorning it, the soufflé dish ran up and down the table on centipedal little mousefeet. Cat humor, like Rat Sauce, is a developed taste.
“So,” continued Frolic, “Dalai’s meme is Dirty Politics, Dirty Religion, Dirty Science. It gives us a handy, mouse-soufflé-tasty way to comprehend the wrongness and the rightness – to see the ideas of politics, religion, and science through a prism with the light broken into its constituent parts. The ignorant excesses distort the possibly noble pursuits.”
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