Bitch Kitty Racing

A Parable

There once was a man who worked in a mine. His job was to set explosives. He’d been blasted a few times and thought he knew everything from the experiences, so occasionally he’d get careless and lose another finger. He thought this made him stronger.

One day he set out to blast a vertical tunnel in search of gold. It was the damndest hole to get into, a tiny diamond-hard opening leading into much softer rock. In order to set the explosives to get the gold he actually had to chain himself up in the opening of the hole in such a manner that he couldn’t move if the explosion went awry. If all went well, the explosions would break his chains and he would be able to let himself gently down. He would suffer a bit, but he was sure it was nothing he couldn’t live through.

So he looked at the problem, studied the rock, chose his explosives carefully. He knew it was dangerous, but he was so confident in his ability that he failed to notice that down is one thing, but out is quite another. He had, in effect, created a giant cannon with himself blocking the opening.

Still, his ability was great. He deftly placed a small explosive and lit the fuse. He was tough. He could take a little pain. Look at his scars! There were some things that he failed to take into account, though. The explosive was mislabeled and much more powerful than it looked. It was packed into the softer rock, but unfortunately that rock was backed by the diamond-hard stuff.

BOOM!

“Jumping donkey-riding Jehosephat!” screamed the miner. “OWWWWWW!!!!” For, you see, the explosion had vaporized all of his clothing, as you might imagine, as well as the first forty-eight layers of skin.

Have you ever been swimming in heavy surf all day? Your skin is so raw by nightfall that your clothes actually stick your skin because it is weeping. It’s like a skinned knee all over your body, or a blistering sunburn that never stops stinging. Unfortunately, the miner was much, much worse.

And even more unfortunately, he was still chained to the rock.

So then the ants came to drink his fluids, and they irritated him so that he wept for frustration; had he not chained himself to the rock he could have just swept them away. Then the monkeys came and threw rotten fruit at him and he wept for frustration again; had he not chained himself he could have just thrown a few rocks back at them to show them who was boss. Then the vultures came and began to tear at his flesh and the miner screamed and wailed and gnashed his teeth in frustration; if he were not chained he would rip the heads off those birds and eat them raw!

Alas, he had chained himself to rock and all he could do was pray for his own survival while he waited for the chains to rust away.

This article is sponsored by: The Bitch Kitty Store