Newspaper Headlines in the Year 2035
Ozone created by electric cars now killing millions inthe seventh largest country in the world, California.
White minorities still trying to have English recognized as the California's third language.
Spotted Owl plague threatens northwestern United States crops & livestock.
Baby conceived naturally.... Scientists stumped.
Authentic year 2000 "chad" sells at Sotheby's for $4.6 million.
Last remaining Fundamentalist Muslim dies in the American Territory of the Middle East (formerly known as Iran, Afghanistan, Syria,and Lebanon.)
Iraq still closed off; physicists estimate it will take at least ten more years before radioactivity decreases to safe levels.
Castro finally dies at age 112; Cuban cigars can now be imported legally, but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking.
George Z. Bush says he will run for President in 2036.
35 year study: diet and exercise is the key to weight loss.
Texas executes last remaining citizen.
Upcoming NFL draft likely to focus on use of mutants.
Average height of NBA players now nine feet, seven inches.
Microsoft announces it has perfected its newest version of Windows so it crashes BEFORE installation is completed.
New federal law requires that all nail clippers, screw-drivers and baseball bats must be registered by January 2036.
"Bush is my shepherd, I shall be in want. He leadeth me beside the still factories, He maketh me to lie down on park benches, He restoreth my doubts about the Republican party, He guideth me onto the paths of unemployment for the party's sake. I do fear the evildoers, for thou talkst about them constantly. Thy tax cuts for the rich and thy deficit spending They do discomfort me. Thou anointeth me with never-ending debt, And my savings and assets shall soon be gone. Surely poverty and hard living shall follow me, And my jobless children shall dwell in my basement forever."
A guy wearing a singlet and slippers walked into the bank and practically shouted at the teller, “Yo woman! Who do I speak to to open a bloody bank account in this bloody bank?”The teller politely told him to lower his voice as he was disturbing the other customers and that she would be able to open his bank account for him.The guy was practically foaming at the mouth. “Don’t you tell me what to do! And no woman is opening my bloody account. You women are just good for cooking, cleaning and making babies. I wanna speak to a man!”The teller got up in a huff, went to the bank manager’s office and explained the situation to him. The bank manager told her that while the customer was always right, this customer was definitely wrong. He went back with the teller to set the guy straight.“About time a man showed up!” The guy was as loud, if not louder than before. “I just won $25 million dollars in the lottery and this bloody woman insisted that she’s capable of opening my bloody account for me.”“She did, did she?” The bank manager was almost as loud as the guy. “She was just supposed to clean the windows and arrange the files. Don’t mind her. Let’s go to my bloody office and see what we can do about your bloody account!”
It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now and then -- to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true.
Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time. That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunch time so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"
One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it \hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me a lot to think about.
I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been thinking ..." "I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently. She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the big glass doors... They didn't open. The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.
As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting.
At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home.