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Saturday, May 22, 2004

Ancient Scroll About Stress 

(This is the translation of an ancient scroll, recently discovered somewhere in the Middle East, concerning stress.)

Verily I say unto you, if ye endureth stress daily in thy life, ye shall expire at an early age. Readeth ye these writings, and taketh them to thine heart, and ye may yet liveth to be an burden upon thy grandchildren!

An scenario:

Yay, even though ye have had thine cart pack-ed and thine ass hitch-ed up thereto since before ye sun pop-ped up this a.m., ye wives art flitting about still, trying on, then changing, their veils repeatedly. Finally, ye put-teth down thy foot and get them loaded aboard thy cart, and ye set out upon thy pilgrimage. Since ye art behind in thy schedule, ye art smiting thine ass mightily with thy buggy whip, and thine ass, terrified, art in full gallop, flinging mud into thine eyeballs and buttsmoke up thy nostrils. Then, just when ye calculateth that ye might arriveth in yon village at an reasonable hour, whilst Motel 6 still hath ye light on, an fellow pilgrim pulleth his ass out onto ye trail in front of thee, and proceedeth to poketh along at an leisurely pace whilst talking on his cell phone, causing ye to pull back mightily on the reins of thine ass in order to avoideth an collision. Thy face turneth purple, thy blood courseth mightily through thy veins, and ye small hairs standeth upright upon the back of thy neck. Ye, my friend, art stress-ed!

Verily, of what remedy to such an situation may ye availeth thyself? Ye may yank mightily upon the tail of thine ass and causeth it to bray loudly, hoping that ye fellow pilgrim will taketh ye hint and pulleth over, permitting ye to pass. But if ye pilgrim recognizeth not subtlety, ye may feeleth justified in engaging in even bolder steps. Ye may, for example, pulleth alongside ye pilgrim and kicketh his ass while loudly hollering "Giddyap!". Be forewarn-ed, though, that if the ass of ye pilgrim art larger than thine own, ye may getteth thine own ass kick-ed instead! Ye may likewise consider whipping out thy sword and smiting ye pilgrim in the manner of Zena the Warrior Princess. But be ye aware, some provinces frown mightily upon the smiting of their citizens with swords, and ye may wind up with thy noggin upon ye chopping block, which couldst causeth thee even more stress than even an fellow pilgrim with an pokey ass.

Shouldst ye find thyself with no choice but to poke along behind ye fellow pilgrim until he reacheth his exit, ye must take great care in dealing with thy stress when ye make camp for the night. Ye may feeleth compelled to kicketh thy dogs and beateth thy wives, but such an course of action may backfireth upon thee. Shouldst ye kicketh them, thy dogs may biteth thee. And if ye beateth thy wives, they shall most certainly haveth thee lock-ed up and retaineth one skilled in the drawing up of divorce scrolls. Then, when ye once again enjoyeth freedom, ye shall find thyself paying for an tent in which ye liveth not! Verily I say unto you, whilst ye shall most assuredly find thyself maintaining an large herd of sheep in order to meet thy monthly alimony payments, ye shall find that thy nights are more pleasant in the company of a few wives than in the company of many sheep!

"So what", ye may wonder, "is an solution to this blight called stress?".

Many generations ago, the revered monk, Axelrod the Cool, discovered meditation.

"What", ye may well asketh, "the hell is 'meditation'?".

Meditation is an method of relaxation which dealeth satisfactorily with ye stress.

"How", inquireth ye, "doth one meditate?".

If ye wouldst shutteth the @#%$ up...[Ooooommmm]... readeth ye on, Pilgrim, and I shall enlighteneth thee.

Axelrod had observed that, when experiencing an situation such as described earlier, many pilgrims assumed an certain posture and chanted an mantra. The posture was usually to present the back of ye fist toward the offending fellow pilgrim, then extend the middle finger whilst chanting "sumbitch", or some other appropriate mantra. Axelrod, after much cogitation, decided that ye shouldst suppress thy anger until such time as ye couldst safely release it.

In order to meditate, ye must sit upon ye ground with each of thy ankles resting upon the kneebone of the opposite leg. This assureth that when ye thinkest about all of thy daily stress, ye will be unable to leap immediately to thy feet and run out and commit mayhem upon thy village sumbitch. Axelrod also decided that if extending only one finger made ye feel better, extending three fingers shouldst maketh thee feel three times better! So he decreed that ye shouldst maketh an circle with thy thumb and forefinger, whilst extending thy other three fingers (placing ye either an "triple whammy" on one sumbitch, or getting three at a time!), and that ye shouldst rest thy hands on thine ankles, which art in turn resting on thy kneecaps! Ye shouldst then chant an mantra of thine own choosing (but preferably not "sumbitch". [This scribe hath discovered that an pleasing mantra, when vexed by an Wife, is "jessicasimpson jessicasimpson jessicasimpson"]).

Having now been instructed in ye proper manner of dealing with ye stress, ye may rest assured that ye local healer shalt never find it necessary to place thee on Prozac!