“Lovely Rita Meter Maid” is playing in the background, the version Paul McCartney performed at the Tokyo Dome a few years back. Meanwhile, I’m reading a story at ZeroHedge.com headlined: “Chinese Media Almost Sets Off Military Action With Erroneous North Korea Headline.”
Say what?
The story is penned by Tyler Durden, which I assume is a nom de plume. (“Fight Club” fans know why — but don’t ask them: They’re not supposed to discuss “Fight Club.”) Durden was writing about “The Day of the Sun” — the annual holiday that celebrates the birth of Kim Il-sung, founder and former president of North Korea. It’s a special commemoration: children get candy, families, food; the general public, parades — and a peek at new weapons. This year’s bada-bing bada-bomb: the Pukkuksong-2, a submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM).
So far, so good — but something got lost in the translation by the time the story initially showed up at Bloomberg.com. Instead of saying, “North Korean Missile Seen at Military Parade,” the headline said, “North Korea Fires Projectile.”
Oooops …
As Mark Twain once observed, “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter — it’s the difference between lightning-bug and lightning.”
What does this have to do with my headline, “Easter, Radishes & WW3”?
Nothing and everything.
My headline was originally “Good Friday & Radishes.” Why? Because I’ve a batch of radishes growing in a black plastic tray on my back porch; that prompted me to think of Jesus’ body as a seed, dormant in a dark tomb on Good Friday, but ready to sprout anew on Easter Sunday.
Trouble was, my idea never sprouted. It was stagnant. Moribund. DOA. Deceased. Then, today, I got silly-slapped by that headline: “Chinese Media Almost Sets Off Military Action With Erroneous North Korea Headline.”
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Bit of life, perhaps? Mebbe …
End-of-the world scenarios detonated multiple explosions in my overactive mind: “War Games” times infinity — or “The End” by “The Doors,” a la “Apocalypse Now.”
“What will happen to my radishes?” I thought.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why would I think of that? Why worry about a tiny batch of baby radishes if the world’s going to end? Why worry about that? Why worry about anything?
So, instead of dwelling on the destruction of radishes, I speculated about how the Earth might come back to life after the colossal unleashing of “Dr. Strangelove”-like nuclear devices implanted in its fragile soil.
Ka-boom. Ka-boom. Ka-boom-boom-boom.
In an odd way, it was re-assuring: The circle of life. The cycle of life. Life re-defined. Life re-born.
Then an odd thought formed in the moody mushroom-cloud of my mind: What if the next advanced species didn’t go to war? Didn’t make bombs. Didn’t prefer annihilation to assimilation?
Hmmmm …..
Might be nice … assuming, of course, they like radishes.
SUNDAY MEDITATIONS ARCHIVE: Click here.
