The Dirty Mango

Yes, I ate several dirty mango's and they were juicy, succulent and very very mango-ey. But in the end they betrayed me, and instead of satisfying my intense appetite for this most delicious orange fruit, they made me very horribly ill. So ill that I had to go to the hospital and stay there overnight and get IV's put into my arm and other interesting things inserted into various places that should not be giving entry to such things.

I have since been freed from that horrible place, and I'm still the same old me ... less a few pounds and my dignity. The road to recovery is a hard one though, so I find myself back in the City Diner sipping bottomless coke and nibbling on a banana split ... what a fucking hell.

So, for this entire week I've been home from work. Just sitting around watching Stephen Chow movies, reading up on my Chinese, and occasionally running to the bathroom to shit my brains out. paradise.

While I was sprawled out on my bed watching TV I saw a news report. This news report focused on a school for the mentally handicapped. They might as well have just printed the script from the Strangers With Candy Episode about retards and scrolled it across the screen in glaring hot pink letters:

Hi. This is Wilford Brimley. Welcome to ‘Retardation: A Celebration.’

Now, hopefully with this book, I’m gonna dispel a few myths, a few rumors. First off, the retarded don’t rule the night. They don’t rule it – nobody does. And they don’t run in packs. And while they may not be as strong as apes, don’t lock eyes with ‘em, don’t do it. Puts ‘em on edge. They might go into berserker mode, come at you like a whirling dervish, all fists and elbows. You might be screaming, ‘No, no, no,’ – all they hear is, ‘Who wants cake?’

Let me tell you something: They all do. They all want cake.

Well, that’s it for the celebration. I guess the most important thing to remember is, they’re just like you and me.

Substitute 'Wilfred Brimley' with '#3 Dispatcher of Absolute Truth from your All Knowing Communist Overlords' and I'd say you've got a pretty standard Chinese news report.

That day I was hearing a report from the kind of person who would say "I'm not racist, I have 2 black friends and we get along great!" or "I'm not racist, I teach black kids." The report went something like this (translated roughly and to put full emphasis on their choice of words): "blah blah blah school is here blah blah ... and there is something about these kids that normal people like us will never understand. Things that would make normal people like you or I sad or afraid, only serve as entertainment for their strange minds. Some people may ask, "What is the use of teaching them?" Well here with one possible answer is Teacher Zhou, who is brave enough to attempt to educate these children, even while they are mocked by local villagers..."

This voice over was set against the backdrop of a full compliment of retarded children running down the street ... presumably fleeing some imaginary foe only visible to them in their feeble, confused minds. They were all there: The Living Ham, Baxter, Gurm, even Frankenstein made a frightening appearance as he stumbled down the street in terror. They must have opened the gates and come after them with cattle prods to cause such a stampede.

Actually it's a miracle these kids have survived as long as they have. Usually they would kill you at birth just for being female, which is bad enough, just imagine the hearts of gold their parents must have had not to throw her down the unwanted baby-hatch as soon as the Living Ham began her assault on all the known human senses of perception. They just waited a few years and cast her into a re-titled prison, with no hope of escape. Alcatraz is one of the most famous prisons in the USA ... only 2 people have ever escaped, but they've never been found since. The prison that The Living Ham finds herself in has nothing barring her exit, except for a gate that is more of a showpiece than anything else. The true barrier, as they would tell you in the news report, is in the mind of the Living Ham herself. An insurmountable collection of mystical foes and terrifying landscapes. A land where looking towards the setting sun does not bring with it the hope of a better tomorrow, it only brings the promise of pain and unmitigated fear. The retarded children, we are informed, laugh not out of joy or happiness, but out of pure terror. That is something for you to think about the next you want to help by dangling a pretty flower in their face and making funny noises. They don't see a flower ... They see a towering death scorpion holding the pain and suffering of all creation in its claws, and a gruesome stinger poised to bring down every ounce of wrath and godfury upon they're quivering face. Your soothing noises are the scorpions war call and the tolling of the death bell wrapped in one. Just think about it.

Speaking of Unwanted Baby Hatches, I heard that Japan just approved the first unwanted baby hatch for use in hospitals. Happy Days.