Monday Magazine Section —– August 18, 2014

Welcome to the Bumbastories Monday Magazine

We regret to announce that this week’s magazine contains nothing particularly significant. But since our aim is simply to entertain, maybe it’s OK that the magazine sits on the weak end of the significance spectrum. How significant is significance, anyway? Last we heard, the jury is still out on the significance question. However the jury is in and the verdict delivered on the subject of “Meaning”. Please see the Funny Pages entry on “The Meaning of Life”. Also see song at end of the magazine, a song Bumba wrote a long time ago which is clearly not very meaningful, but is quite sweet nonetheless.

That being said, George Packard, our roving reporter, is still out there: doggedly determined and decidedly dead-earnest not only about alliteration but also about journalistic significance. George wants to lasso some “breaking news”, a scoop. Ya gotta admit, social significance is nice in a magazine. But, as we were saying, this week’s Monday magazine is a bit low on significance. And meaning too.

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The Meaning of Life

The Meaning of Life

The Buddha was asked by one of his disciples about the meaning of life.

By way of response, the Buddha held up a flower.

“Do you mean to say,” exclaimed Rami Medran “that the meaning of life is a flower? Just a little flower?”

“The meaning of life is anything you chose,” responded the Buddha slowly, “If you like, the meaning of life is my fat ass.”

“Oh no, oh no,” gasped Suri Ba’an, “That cannot be.”

“OK,” drawled the Buddha, “the meaning of life is your fat ass. Or, if you like, a tiny flea that is crawling around your fat tooches, searching, poor thing, for his meaning of life.”

“Aah! The Buddha means to say that the meaning of life lies within the examination of life itself. The noble quest, the struggle of the mind to make sense of the maya of existence!’ countered Suri Ba’an.

“OK,” said the Buddha. “Let me put it this way. The real meaning of life is the line at the 7-Eleven convenience store.”

“What is this, sire? This 7-Eleven?” they asked.

“It’s a combination of two prime numbers together with too high prices. Don’t you get it, dudes? I’m only kidding.”

“Aaaaaaahhh,” they all sighed.

“Right. I was only kidding. The ultimate in meaning, the bottom line on the meaning thing is Jack Nicholson.”

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All right, here’s some quick social commentary:

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“Hey! How come eveybody is always so busy with their phone? I don’t get it.”

Question: Is that it? Is that the extent of Bumbastories’ social commentary and insight into the plight of modern civilization?

Answer: Well, it’s a start, isn’t it?

Question: How about the relationship between the military-industrial-media complex and the widening stratification and disparities between the social classes?

Answer: Yeah, that too.

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And now for a sweet song, Desert Wind….

Wishing everyone a pleasant week.

Cement Elephants and the Meaning of Life

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You know, Franklin, as an Ice-Age cement elephant I’ve been thinking very deeply about the meaning of life for the past 20,000 years or so.
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Yes, Hubert. You’ve certainly had sufficient time to consider the matter. Tell me, what conclusions have you reached concerning this most important issue, this whole meaning of life thing?
Nada, Franklin. No conclusions, no nothin'.
Nada, Franklin. No conclusions, no nothin’. And here I am: still stuck in the mud. And still thinking about the meaning of life. What’s a cement elephant to do?
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Hang in there, Hubert. I’m sure you’ll figure it out in another couple of millenia.