Inappropriate Worldview

I want to open a time window to around 1200 A.D. and witness what life was like without aspirin, internal combustion, cold-rolled steel or nice watches.

I want to see all the drug czars who have ever lived hung by the roofs of their mouths from a zip line spanning the Gulf of Mexico.

I want Jesus Christ to take a nice, long walk down any road in East St. Louis and I want him to take in the putrid, pungent smell of spent prophylactics and alcohol, fermenting in the gutters.

I want to see a gun built that fires planets. That's right, planets. I want two of these guns to be cocked and loaded at opposite ends of the solar system, aiming directly at eachother. Then, I want my hand on the button that pulls both the triggers.

I want to see a resurgence of the pet rock fad. Except this time, I want it to be a pet cotton ball fad.

I want a mosquito-specific disease to infiltrate and then eradicate the entire existence of this most wretched of insects. No one needs mosquitos and I want them all to choke on their own regurgitated blood.

Heh. Mosquito asphyxiation. That's pretty inappropriate, but kind of ironic for some reason. Why?

I want, just for one day ... one sweet fucking day ... for 2+2 to equal 1.618. I want this so badly it actually hurts. Then, I want to see all the mathematicians in the world gathered, perplexed and perhaps even gleeful, around a huge table at the Pentagon.

These mathematicians' heads - I want them all to explode in unison. Wait, no. Make that one by one. And make it happen not because *I* want it to, but because of the sheer cerebral pressure involved in mentally digesting the fact that yes, 2+2 does now equal 1.618.

This all I want because I ...


... have an inappropriate worldview.