All Entries in the "Fractured Opinion" Category

Ski Areas Seek Yuletide Swap

(Crested Butte—-December 12, 2014) In an attempt to thwart the weather and take advantage of heavier snows in April a majority of Colorado ski resorts have petitioned the North Pole to change Christmas from December 25 to January 25. The shift would allow skiers to experience what are often the best snow conditions during the holidays
A coalition of legislators, schools and religious leaders say the ski industry has gone too far in attempting to change a long-standing holiday just to make money.
“Next thing you know they’ll want to change Thanksgiving,” said a teacher from Salida.
“That’s not a bad idea,” harped one ski industry spokesperson. “We’d rather open in late December. There re still turkeys around then. What’s the big deal?”
Strong opposition has arisen in Eastern Colorado where Grinches Go Home, a grassroots water movement, says the ski industry gets too much now.
“The ski people don’t share,” said one Grinch voice. “What if we just closed the roads? We look forward to Solstice and Christmas in December to help us get through a darker, colder time of the year. Changing Christmas would throw everything off and it isn’t going to happen.”
Ski promoters say dull is dull and that the holidays on the plains are simply that, no matter the date. More on this when we make it up.
– Spider Byte

Durango Man Shoots Self in Foot

(Hermosa, CO – November 28, 2014) An unnamed man here admitted to shooting himself in the foot to avoid spring ski duty it was disclosed this morning. According to unreliable sources in the Reflective Service, Barney Barns fired a 22 pistol into what was his pinky toe at approximately seven minutes before the mountain was slated to open for the day.
Barns committed the personal atrocity alone and out of the way of fellow skiers. He was not cited for endangerment but only for discharging a weapon improperly and disturbing the peace.
The culprit was rushed to St Roscoe’s Animal Hospital near Mancos and is in remedial condition at bedtime. Attending physicians verified former reports that Barns, in a semi-conscious state of anxiety pledged to dodge spring skiing in any way possible, including shooting off his arms and legs if need be.
Authorities in this Southwestern Colorado burg, 118 miles south of Olathe, are concerned with the growing number of self-mutilations in response to overcrowding on the slopes this spring.
“We all know it’s no picnic up there. It’s a war zone with all those people on all those skis with their brains back at the condo. – Oral Waters

Dust Mites Make Great Companions For the Elderly

(Pea Green, CO – Nov 28, 2014) The despicable dust mite just may be the answer to the growing epidemic of loneliness in the aging population here. A shadow research group, aligned with the pharmaceutical industry, has suggested that the microscopic parasites may make great pets.
Doctors have concurred that dust mites are quite compatible with people and offer company without a lot of work.
“As a pet the dust mite has no equal,” said a physician with links to the insurance industry. “They don’t eat much, are generally housebroken, don’t need much exercise and aren’t demanding when it comes to the owner’s attention.”
These traits are considered attributes when it comes to the elderly caring for a pet. Researchers remind us that the positive impact of having a pet around the house is substantial, and can be quite rewarding for all parties concerned. Now with the appraisal of dust mites completed, they see many of the traditional inconveniences of pet ownership to be a non-issue.
“It’s the right pet at the right time,” said one doctor who has manned the senility ward at St Roscoe’s since 1960. “I myself have several and enjoy them almost like they were my children.”
Another senior says she shares her small cottage with thousands of dust mites annually.
“They bring their friends and families into my home in return for a little small talk,” she winked. “They’re much more involved in my life than my house plants or the sea turtle I rescued from the surf at Atlantic City in 1920.”
The above source says she talks to the dust mites and takes them for rides in her car on the weekends. (After a little snooping we found that she does not own a car).
Scientists, standing down after months of tedious exploration, assure us that there is no shortage of dust mites in Colorado but warned that their number is not infinite.
“There are plenty of these little parasites to go around and there is no need of hoarding,” said someone involved somewhere in this ridiculous story. – Fred Zeppelin

“Thanksgiving in Turkey”

TRAVEL ’14
Continued from in front of you

so that Bob (is that his name?) and I and the kids were pushed down onto the pavement and told to keep our eyes to the ground as the entourage passed by, snaking its way toward Mount Ararat and the grave of the Apostle Paul.
“Hey, mom,” said little Bennie, “says in this brochure that Turkey is larger than Texas. Is that for real?”
“No, stupid, it’s just all that jihad propaganda,” piped sister Beatrice from the pruned position. “Where did you get that brochure anyway?”
“Shut-up bitch,” said little Bennie. “Nobody’s talking to you!”
“Now kids, let’s try to put our hatreds aside. We’re miles from our hotel and not out of this yet,” said Dad. “These people are naturally friendly and engaging. They just have to get to know us. I thought St Paul was buried at Lookout Mountain…”
Finally, and not without more fanfare the procession passed. The strange men in robes told us to get up and walk to the east and we would find our hotel.
“I wanna see Noah’s Arc,” said Beatrice, “and the ancient city of Troy. What a beat vacation. All my friends in Chicago will laugh at me if they find out I came all the way to Turkey without…”
“Wait, daddy,” I said to my husband, “isn’t that the road to Istanbul, or is it the road to Constantinople? They must sell ottomans there. I just have to have an authentic Turkish Ottoman or I’ll just die.”
“What about dinner?” whined Bennie. “We’ve been here three days and I haven’t seen a taco anywhere. Today is Thanksgiving. Where’s the stuffing?”
“Now Bennie,” said my husband, whose name eludes me just now, “this isn’t America. One has to adapt. Sure, all of these rugheads wish they were in America, the land of the free, but they aren’t. They’re marooned here in Asia Minor…have been for centuries. I thought you liked the filberts in barley sauce that mom cooked up last night.”
“I want pizza,” screamed Beatrice much to the chagrin of a large angry crowd that had now gathered, blocking our exit from behind one of a hundred mosques that crowd the cobbled square. “I hate filberts!”
“And where is the football!” demanded little Bennie. “Don’t these Tartar savages know that it’s Thanksgiving?”
“I hate tartar sauce too,” mumbled Beatrice, “and Kurds and whey…
“Stop!” cried daddy. “Look a fez stand right out here in the middle of nowhere. I think we should all take home a fez as a souvenir from this lovely trip. Say there sahib. How much for four fezzes…is that the proper term? Yeah, four…and don’t try to screw me. I’m an American and I have rights.”
At that he pulled out a U.S. fifty which the man selling the fez hats quickly grabbed and stashed in his robe. He smiled and then let go of the hats.
“Those hats look stupid,” said Beatrice, and for once her little brother agreed. We must have looked quite the sight wandering down those snarled filthy streets, sipping a Raki looking for some familiar signs of home.
“I have to pee,” said Bennie.
“We need to find a halkevi, or house of the people. Surely they will have indoor facilities…
“And cleanliness,” I crisply quipped.
“And a make-up mirror,” added Beatrice.
“And some good old American toilet paper,” smiled Daddy.
“We could ask someone,” I said melodically, swept up in the worldly banter of a man I no longer knew.
“None of these bozos talk American,” said Bennie
“Turkish isn’t so hard to learn,” said Dad as he wagged his finger at a would-be thief. “The Turks borrowed many Arabic and Persian words during the Ottoman Empire, then Kemal Ataturk changed the whole shootin’ match over to the Roman alphabet in 1928.”
“How does he know all that?” whispered Beatrice in my direction.
“Daddy was once a Middle East expert in of the Bush Administrations, dear,” I explained.
“It’s worthless information about a country that prefers figs to cranberry sauce, olives to pumpkin pie…”
“Shhhhh,” Bennie. Here come the mashed potatoes!”
As I looked up I saw thousands of men in the street. There were Turks from Ankara, Turks from Izmir, Turks from Cyprus. All were working together pushing a massive vat of freshly mashed potatoes, thinly veiled in Seljuk mohair, toward the largest of the mosques to the east of the square.
“Wow, dad!” said Bennie.
“Where are all the women?” asked Beatrice.
“Maybe they do celebrate Thanksgiving in Turkey,” I flinched.
“Look, kids. Look! It’s the march of the turkeys,” said Dad. “Look, honey, their coming this way. It’s going to be a wonderful holiday just like I told you. Honey? Honey? Hey, kids, where’s your mother?
“Oh, she was forced into that black Mercedes by two Turkish men who have been following us since yesterday,” said Beatrice.
“What? Forced into a car? gasped Daddy.
“Relax, man she’ll be back for dinner,” said Bennie.
– Luanne Julienne is a free-lance writer who lives in a big house in Connecticut. In addition to writing travel articles she raises amphetamines, which are then sold to collectors in New York

Malfunction TV to Resume Broadcasts

News from “River City” – November 13. 2014
One of the Bland Valley’s top two television stations has promised to return to the air “pretty soon”. Owner and general manager Alvin Rabbit-Tears promised reporters that ZYX Television would be back up and running after technical problems shut her down last week.
“It wasn’t deliberate or nothin’,” said Rabbit-Tears.
The problem as outlined by engineers, was caused when one of the techies in Montrose accidently disengaged the amalgamated-core direct electronic feed to the direct transducer transformer, and a power drop occurred in the transitory remission relay center.
“The instruction book was all in Chinese,” whined Rabbit-Tears, “and we don’t have anyone around here that speaks Chinese.”
Civic leaders, who for decades have been trying to figure out how ZYX ever secured an FCC license, contend that the station is run by fifth graders and viewers should be a little more understanding of problems that might crop up. Many say the entire problem was caused when the night janitor tripped on the main power cord, effectively shutting down the operation.
“Be that as it may,” strained the manager, “but the trouble was severely compounded when highly trained technicians from the network center found discrepancies in the schematic design infrastructure (no one could find the plug) and were forced to perform a complete diagnostic analysis (They began moving the main studio furniture around) before they could isolate the faulty component (They found the plug) and inserted the power correlation device. (They plugged it in).
“We don’t expect our viewers to be able to follow all this specialized jargon,” said Rabbit-Tears, “any more than we might expect the readers of this newspaper to understand why rocks come in different sizes.”
– Mario Swervo

Street art in the mountains of Nicaragua

Wall art in mountain town of Esteli, Nicaragua