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Serving the Enemy



So we have a complaint of too little blogging. I agree we need more blogging.

I think also, we succumb to the depressing times in which we live and no one feels like writing when they are feeling down.

On the other hand, what better time to pen a light-hearted look at the misery that surrounds us?

Like General Custer we are circled by promises of our doom and the arrows of outrageous misfortune to be living in these most irrational new dark ages. If we circle the wagons against the enemy we will never know what we might achieve if we invite them into our midst for coffee and donuts, instead of shooting at them.

I've actually wondered if you could use a bevy of donuts as some kind of edible condom. Jelly or jam filling would probably be needed to keep them slippery, at least till cream was made available.

The problem is, after you have eaten the donuts and drank the coffee, what else can you do to cement relations with those who wish to murder you and your loved ones. Hoping that they won't murder your entire family because you gave them a fried cake and a cup of coffee, might possibly be wishful thinking.

"Donuts," chants the enemy, "Donuts, donuts, now."

The trouble is we have little flour and coffee left.

Poised on the mound of hopelessness,

We look across the plain,

Seeking in vain,

The sign of cavalry charging,

To our rescue,

With more supplies,

But they never came,

So we mix up the last of the flour

And make the donuts,

Our enemies require.

"Make with the donuts,"

Our enemies yell,

It seems like they have seen,

The wisdom of safe eating,

The donuts we supply,

And we carefully slide them onto,

Their upright brave young men,

Who then consume them,

With our help.

For who are we,

To complain or disagree,

If coffee and donuts,

Can save the day,

Let us feast all night,

If it will put things right,

For in the morning,

The troops will arrive

And they will have more

Coffee and flour,

But again they scream, "Donuts, donuts."

Alas, our flour is all gone.

A meeting has been called

Between their leader and ours,

Who tries to explain,

That more flour is on the way.

"We don't care about that,"

Says their chief,

"You slide those ring-shaped cakes onto us and then help eat them, slurping over us, creating great excitement. We just want to know, when are you going to do our nuts?"

Like all disputes, usually someone has misconstrued what the other side wants, and sometimes it is what we both want.


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