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Monday, April 23, 2007
Sheryl has that 'pesky'
feeling...
WE CAN HELP. Yeah, it's a bad feeling, knowing that Global Warming is going to drown New York and San Francisco and all the best concert venues. The consequences are dire. At the very least it would mean rewriting the list of terms, conditions, and perks the band would have to extort expect from promoters and producers. Think how much more complicated this clause would get:
God, you've have to specify flying boats, barges, launches, and a cabin cruiser, at a minimum. What's a girl to do?
That's why we understand her natural inclination to make suggestions. But we can't help observing that she's thinking a bit small. No matter how you perforate slice it, her toilet paper suggestion isn't going to save the concert-going public from inundation by the melting of the polar icecaps. It wouldn't even shift the balance if she issued the Luddite decree that ALL the mallrats of the western hemisphere revert to the fresh corncob solution of the 19th century (strangely practical when you figure in the fact that the Third World will no longer have access to corn for food when it's all being used for ethanol), or that women abandon disposable paper products for the re-usable cotton towels that marked the high point of Roman female hygiene.
But it was the best she could do. The amount of brainpower required to write three-chord rock and rhyming iambic lyrics is not the same as that required for saving the embattled earth from the sickening depredations of post-Neanderthal primates.
Rescue is on the way. We know what to do. And if these additional shots of Sheryl are any indication, she just might jump onto our admittedly narrow bandwagon. Tomorrow.
She might turn out to be one of the survivors. Unless... well, tune in tomorrow.
