Redundant.

Note: This is a sad story. It isn’t happy and may induce feelings of sympathy and bereavement. Please read only if you don’t mind some cheerless, lugubrious, and slightly morbid fare. Yes, morbid. This is morbid, mournful and morose. It isn’t funny. In fact it’s woebegone; more likely to induce feelings of despair and despondence than delight and ecstasy. Read at your own risk.

Meet Todd. Todd is a boy, who is a male young man. He owns a house, a small, undersized abode with four walls and a ceiling. His home has a floor and a roof. Outside the house is a yard, covered in landscape and small plants for decoration. The yard has a sod lawn with grass planted in it. Todd owns it.

On the side of the house opposite the street is a large, concrete-lined pond filled with chlorinated water. Behind the house is a pool. The pool is full to capacity with cool colorless liquid, treated with chemicals to keep the algae from growing. It is a swimming pool. It is full of water. It is in Todd's backyard.

Around the pool are two chairs for sunbathing. People who want to soak in some rays and collect some ambient Vitamin D may lean back in the plastic furniture and relax. The area around the water is perfect for getting a tan and there are a couple of shays set up for that very purpose. In fact, there are two pool chairs on the deck.

Todd exits his house, ready to swim. He is wearing nothing but a swimsuit, but doesn’t feel self conscious because he knows he is alone. Todd is the only one around and he is wearing appropriate clothes for swimming.

As the owner of the house is about to step into the pull, he slips on the wet tile and knocks his head against the deck. The tile is soaked, aqueous and covered in water. Todd loses his footing and his foot slides against the drenched surface. Just as he is about to get into the pool, he loses his power over gravity and smashes his cranial cavity against the surface he used to be touching with his feet.

Inconclusively, without much evidence and with little data, we can conclude that Todd is knocked out. It’s ambiguous and the information is deficient, but even in the face of such unsatisfactory confirmation, we can infer that the owner of the house is unconscious. Lacking a definitive testimonial, it would be inappropriate to say for certain, but Todd really looks out of it.

A wave brushes up against Todd’s half-submerged body and pulls him toward the water. The wind blows some water up onto the owner of the house and its rebounding movement drags Todd away from the deck. A larger wave pulls Todd all the way into the water. The colorless liquid covers Todd’s face. He falls into the pool.

A large cephalopod enters the water and moves toward Todd. Unnoticed by any, a giant squid squirrels it's way out of the brush by the side of the pool and propels itself toward the unsuspecting human. The animal is a squid and it is moving into the water. Before, the squid was in the water it was next to the pool in a small plant. Now, it is in the water. Nobody asks why a squid would hide by the side of a pool.

The squid strangles Todd. Using every one of its ten arms, the cephalopod asphyxiates his prey until he stops moving. Todd's neck is being covered by ten different suction powered appendages and he can't breathe. Todd loses his breath and ceases his struggles. Todd dies. He kicks the bucket, is bumped off, buys it, cashes it in, chalks out, conks, expires, succumbs, pushes up the daisies, harfs it, folds, mucks, goes KIA, keeps the headstone company, captains the dirt submarine, visits the in-laws, communes with nature, renders unto Caesar, goes back for seconds, calls home in the horizontal phone booth, catches some shut-eye, gets off the train, hunts for buried treasure, meets the gophers, tucks in for the night, holes up, cools off, gets front row seating at the funeral, goes all in, tests the dirt with both feet, gets busted cheating death, wumps, sproinks, dingalings, taps out, busts, finishes last, gets in a time capsule, hides from Chuck Norris, gets his last change of address, and, yes, drowns.

Posthumously, after his death and when he is no longer alive, Todd’s friends cry for him. They shed tears about the life he led and the tragic nature of his demise. His passing was sad and they mourn his loss. Todd’s friends are bereaved.

At Todd’s funeral, a man in a suit talks about the importance of never swimming alone. While they put his body into the ground, an expert in pool maintenance and safety advises others to learn from Todd’s mistake. Todd gave his life to tell a lesson and we should all pay attention to that lesson. Everyone is wearing black and, while tears are shed and memories shared, a water virtuoso warns others of the danger of pools and squids. They are not safe, so always bring someone along to help you if you have a problem. Always, always, always!

Moral: Never swim alone without other people around to accompany you unless you have supervision.

Cindy Sheehan is a Filthy Quitter

Caution: This post is not very nice to Cindy...

Almost two years ago, a Heroine of audacious tenacity, the Matron Saint of Peace Advocacy reacted to the violent loss of Her son to protest our country’s invasion of Iraq. This advocate raised the white flag and waived it militantly. She protested what She saw as a travesty of justice by purchasing a small tract of land adjacent to our President’s ranch plot and setting up a camp on that property which She named after Her late son.

She then joined on the talk show, TV and late night circuses, collecting support for Her cause and rallying Her anti-war troops. She called out the Commander-in-Chief to explain Her son’s demise and threatened both major political parties with exposure. More than just threaten, She actually exposed, digging up some dirt and lobbying in favor the changes She felt were necessary.

Then, with little warning and no named successor, Cindy Sheehan quit. On Memorial Day of all days, Sheehan said She had “failed” her late son and would now be packing up her fliers, bumper stickers, hats, pins and triangular flags and leaving Texas and maybe the USA altogether.

Sheehan says Her departure is due to slanderous and hurtful comments from the political left. She could take flak from the right but not from the left. She said She felt She’d been double crossed. Some in Her entourage claim the promise of an especially warm Al Gore summer was the last straw. Other’s felt it had something to do with a tempting offer from PETA. But regardless of her rationale, the Human Dove (Bar) is leaving tens of hundreds of faithful protesters without a leader.

It’s like the disappointment of Lindsey Lohan collapsing during a drunken cocaine binge or Rachel Smith falling on stage during the evening gown portion of the Miss World competition – we are sorry not to see the glamorous conclusion of Your efforts.

The army of peace has lost its Head; the battalion is without a Commanding Officer.

C’mon Cindy! Leading an underground political movement isn’t like smoking; You don’t have to quit. Just because You’ve been betrayed by the left doesn’t mean You are justified in betraying them back.

Where will the dried up hippies who’ve found new life and moisture under Your leadership flock now? What will become of the Leave Iraq activists who used Your movement as a way to release long suppressed tensions? Will the social miscreants who found purpose under Your banner have to return to bum-dom or will another leader rise from the ashes to call out our president? Who will this Phoenix be and how do You know his motives will be as pure as Yours?

Here at FCN, we think You’re a filthy quitter. Your son gave the ultimate sacrifice in a cause he thought was right and just – he’s a hero, no question – and You tried to make his life into something new after his demise. You tried, but You quit.

Go now. Leave. Fee to Canada, France or the Caribbean or wherever it is defeated leftists reside when the smoke clears.

Have a good life. And please don’t come back in a few months on an Anniversary tour to release a few birds and deliver some tired Bush jokes. You’re yesterday’s news. You’re a filthy quitter. And we don’t like You anymore.