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Throbbin’ Wood

May. 19, 2010
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I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, here’s a little story my buddy Little Jimmy Iodine told me the other day that I think even the kids might enjoy: Pinocchio’s girlfriend says to him, “This sucks. Every time we make love I get splinters.” So Pinocchio goes to Gepetto for advice and Gepetto says, “Sandpaper, my boy, that’s all you need.” A few days later, Gepetto asks Pinocchio, “So how’s it going with the girls now?” And Pinocchio says, “Who needs girls?” Ba-ding!

Anyways, it’s the merry month of May so I hear. And I would be remiss if I didn’t send out a Big Fat Happy Birthday to Plato, perhaps the greatest of the old-time-ancient Greek philosophers (right after Anonymous, ’natch) celebrating his 2,438th on Friday, May 21. Hey that’s a lot of candles, I don’t care who you are.

I wonder what Plato would say if I could badger him with a question like a regular Socrates, the question being, “Plato, if a man says something in the woods and no woman hears him, is he still wrong?” You know what I think Plato would say? I think he’d say something like this:

“Two thousand four hundred and thirtyeight years, and still with the questions? You got to be jerking my beefaroni. Haven’t you people come up with any answers yet? I tell you, I was born about 2,000-years-and-change too soon, I shit you not. I’d go into stand-up comedy today. Have my own show on the TV. There’s money in comedy. There’s no money in philosophy. No chicks, either. Just guys, and plenty of them. They say the chicks really go for a guy with a good sense of humor. Sure they do—as long as he also looks like Brad focking Pitt with $50 million bucks parked in the bank; otherwise, hit the road, funnyman, and don’t forget to take the sense of humor with you.

“What a world. They also say laughter’s the best medicine and back in my day it practically was ’cause what did we know from medicine? Jack focking squat, that’s what. But the laughter can be good social medicine, you bet. Like this situation you got today with your priests. We had the same thing with philosophers in my time ’cause they couldn’t be priests since we hadn’t had the visitation from the future Jesus yet, you understand. Anyways, I heard a good one the other day:

“So this priest and a rabbi are having a chat during a break from a conference they were at. Priest says to the rabbi, ‘I heard a rumor that there’s a parish school in my diocese that’s just loaded with young guys we could screw.’ Rabbi says, ‘Out of what?’” Ba-ding!

“But seriously, in answer to your question about the man in the woods being wrong. Beats me. What do I know from the woods?

Cripes, I wrote “Allegory of the Cave,” not some bullshit about prancing through the forest. Don’t they teach you modern nitwits anything in school anymore?

“But I will tell you this: Whatever it is that this guy in the woods you speak of might say, you can bet your drachma two-eighty that one thing he would never, ever say is ‘Screw the ball game, let’s watch ‘Dancing With the Stars,’ and one thing he would never, ever ask is ‘Does this holster make me look fat?’ “Listen, got to run pally, but here’s something you’s people in your day and age all around the world ought to be asking not only yourselves but each other, and allow me to quote myself here ’cause what the fock: ‘Is that which is holy loved by the gods because it is holy, or is it holy because it is loved by the gods?’ OK. See you ’round the corner. Got to tell you’s though, love that TV show ‘Lost’ you got nowadays Wish we would’ve had TV back in the day. I’ll tell you, sitting ’round the fire shoveling B.S. about metaphysics, the theory of forms and such got old mighty quick, I kid you not.’”

So yeah, that’s what I think Plato might say. Anyways, I’m overdue to get over by the Uptowner tavern/charm school for a couple, three rounds of tall and frostys, where me and the fellas shall decide upon which nag we want to lay our money on in the Belmont Stakes coming up ’cause I’ll tell you, I don’t want to say the pony we bet for the Preakness last weekend was late getting in, but the focker had to tiptoe into the stable holding his shoes. Ba-ding!

Dang, I wish Plato hadn’t took off. I just thought of a question for him: If three blondes were in the woods and no man was around, would they still be stupid? Hey, you be the judge:

Three blondes were walking in the woods when they came across a line of tracks. First blonde says, “Look, deer tracks.” Second blonde, “No way, uhuhh. Those are rabbit tracks.” Third blonde says, “You two are so dumb, I swear. Those are horse tracks.” They were still arguing ten minutes later when the train hit them.

There you go.

Remember, keep your eyes to the sky ’cause that’s where heaven’s supposed to be what the fock, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.


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