Baseball Season As Science Fiction
Extinction possibilities abound, not, as previously believed, by atomic force but by a certain shortsightedness in which a select few are left behind to analyze disappearance. Sifting through the ruins, enlightened survivors conclude the tragedy was the consequence of recklessness, a smallness in man's nature that was, tragically, immeasurable at the time.
Baseball season begins, the first pitch thrown out by a medical practitioner who works for the government and specializes in communicable disease. The brilliance of Major League Baseball officials--that the race to the pennant and then to The World Championship is on immediately, and fans are spared from meaningless games in April, May, and June--suggests a certain executive flair. Those of us made of cardboard who couldn't wait for the baseball season to start are delighted, and scream our lungs out.
It was the era of Economists becoming historians, and Historians economists. Apparently the Democratic Party, founded by Andrew Jackson, came up with a revolutionary plan: give money to The People, the most money to those who have the least, on some sort of sliding scale, with the caveat that there's some sort of payback in the future, as if to say, "we're betting on you." The first order of business, said The Speaker, is to conduct a national inventory of slaves to secure credit through collateral, and then to bring the bill to the floor. Sadly, accused of buying the election by the opposing party, The Dems retreated, instead promising the people a nationwide Renaissance in the arts and free tickets to all MLB games in blue states.
The artist in California, having heard the Famous Painter puts 15 coats of gesso on a canvas BEFORE starting his painting, notes the Famous Painter has 15 assistants, and so instead puts on 5 coats of gesso, an odd number divisible into 15. He then begins his painting, cheering it on until it begins to disappoint him, putting on 5 more coats of gesso so that he can begin the painting all over again.