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*Note* My previous blog dedicated one day each week to “the world of IF.”
These three short entries are compiled from that blog. Take a trip to Geometry class where you were taught that, “Given x and Given y, then Theorum z. Then the trip drags you down one more “theorem” and then another. Each time, you have to take the previous theorem as fact to proceed. Hello! Enter the Wingnutted World of Geometry Logic as it pertains to just about any subject you can think of. It could be something as strange as “If shoestrings could talk” or “if walls really did have ears.” Ew that’s gross, but handy if you need a place to stash your earring. Today’s three “IFS” are about:
. . . In the logic of alternate realities if it were actually true.
If Money Grew On Trees
I hear my wallet crying. But there is an alternate universe somewhere that grows money trees in big green forests. In some places they grow faster than weeds---but that’s small change. If you want big bucks you have to go deep into the rain forest of the International Money Pot Jungle where the high value dollar bills grow. You will want to come prepared with gloves, a canoe, money crates and hiking boots to trek across mountains, ford streams, and of course, pick your choice of greenback. Of course, you must carefully choose which trees to pick from. The yen tree brings a different value than the pound, euro, dollar or lira trees. Naturally the more valuable greens are most difficult to find with harder to reach blooms.
Once harvested, you must keep your money fresh and crisp, because everyone knows what a pain it is to put a wimpy wrinkled dollar bill through a change machine. Picked bills must be carefully placed onto the money crates in layers and secured for drying. Dried money may then be packaged for shipping across multinational borders and traded for goods or stockpiled in the Federal Reserve. Of course, there is a flip side to this concept is: If money grew on trees, half the world would develop an allergy to it.
Knew there was a catch!
If Pigs Had Wings
How would the rules be different in a world where pigs had wings? Well, first of all, football goes further. You might not have to throw it at all., Instead, you just say, “Fly My Little Pork Chop” while your opponent yells, “Get down here you Slabbaham!” The field is covered in feathers by the end of the game and one team will have always smoked the other’s HamHocks.
WAIT!
Don’t forget the Olympics, also known as “The Bacon Wars.” You have to train your pig, make sure it’s fit to fly, provide the proper porcine vitamins, multi-vitamins, uber streuber vitamins, porci-roids, antibiotics, and benyporcidryl, for allergic reactions to all of the above. You might jump ahead on your investment by providing honey-glazed cinnamon pills marinated in pineapple juice so that, should your aboarable creature have a heart attack during trials, you can provide the proper funeral, followed by a luau.
Obviously, the Paparazzi will be angling for the best story, whose team mascot has the best wingspan and which coach looked most ridiculous chewing on chicken jerky. Still, the mud carpet provides some earthy quality to the overall effect of the event. Best of all, each little piggy can proudly way his team flag as he squeals “wee wee wee” all the way home.
If Potatoes Ruled the Universe
I’m sure you thought Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head was the invention of a human genius with a strange sense of humor. This is absolutely not true, but if the real minds behind this Multi-Eye phenomenon were to come forward and state the real story, we would be on a hitlist—something about high level security clearance from what I heard. I can tell you that Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head try very hard to blend in our human world because, well, how would you infiltrate if you didn’t?
It started long ago before the Irish came to America with a sack of potatoes: renegade bulbous creatures who left their roots deep in the earth. You see, the true race of potatoes lives far underground. Delegated scouts are sent as “produce” to spy on us from just beneath the surface. That’s why they have all those eyes you know.
They actually rule us from underground. But the rebel movement, “Mashed Potatoes” is fast organizing a community effort to conquer them and take our world back once and for all. Or maybe they are some of the spies. After all, they’ve never undergone an eye-count, have they?
The plot, or should we say “gravy,” thickens!
***
Now it’s official.
The Wingnut has officially been declared
“Ain’t Right!”
