4 thoughts on “Are You Pondering What I’m Pondering?

  1. Strontium-90 is NOT funny… it easily replaces calcium in the body, has a long half-life (28.8 years), is a significant beta emitter, and can cause tumors. They are a significant component of radioactive fallout from atmospheric tests.

    Spoken as a person who:
    (a) Was born in the year that atmospheric testing of nuclear weapons was
    banned (1963);
    (b) Was quite possibly affected by the British testing at Maralinga in the late
    1950s/early 1960s; and
    (c) Lost my leg to a cancerous bony tumor in the bone, as a teenager.

    — Name and address withheld by request.

  2. Personally, I am pondering something else.

    I am thinking of writing a play, and I outline some of it, below. It is about a man who has faked PD for 16 years. After the death of his wife, he suddenly gets “better.” Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

    It occurs to me that, speaking hypothetically, even a native speaker moron who scored a C- on an English test for non-native speakers woukd have figured out a while ago that he does not have a neurological disorder. I hasten to add that is a generous interpretation of his character, but one that must be taken into a count, given his mental handicaps.

    So, let’s assume that such a mental midget truly believed that, hypothetically, his pinched nerve and morbid obesity were something more serious. Being a hypochondriac, he read until he found some disease that “fit” and was difficult to diagnose. Like a chamaleon, he adopted the persona of a man suffering from this disorder, in part because he lacks a moral foundation, but also because he hates who he is. A man like that might move from job to job, wear funny hats, put his name on his clothing (although that could be so he doesn’t forget it), and initiate a continuous stream of failed internet venture, only to dump each one in an effort to “rebrand.”

    Being a greedy sort who openly contemplated suing his late wife’s doctors, it is within the realm of possibility that once such a person accepted that he didn’t have anything wrong with him that a diet and exercise wouldn’t cure, he would think about suing his own doctors. Oh, did I forget to mention that my character is such a good liar that he fooled doctors into performing brain surgery on him?

    But, Dum Dum runs into a problem, namely, all those wiavers he signed before surgery. So, he sits there with a bottle of JWR, and useless hardware in his head and chest.

    My problem is how to end this story. My preference leans towards some jail time in a really red state, having to make MAGA hats every day, but I welcome other ideas short of suicide, severe bodily injury, and murder. Those are off the table, even for a nazi like my character.

    Oh, did I forget to mention he’s secretly a nazi? And a Maoist, too.

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