Absorbing the agreeable rays of an early afternoon sun, I sit here stunned, nearly comatose.
What sober American would dare believe that a teenage dude named Mohammed – operating in a town not heard from since savage Indians, leaking 99 Cent store warpaint, were burning cheating squaws at the stake in the 19th century – stabbed four classmates?
At U.C. Merced, several peace-loving students said that they were delighted Mohammed, who was shot and killed, made a knife his weapon of choice. Out of politeness, he sought not to disturb the legendary tranquility of the non-legendary campus.
A barely discernible sigh trundled out of the slack jaws of the gun control community. Their spirits were elevated because the weapon of choice did not feature a trigger.
Momentarily, Quentin Tarantino’s hairdresser is expected to announce the first knife control movement in this country since the last Redskins knifed a settler family to death in late 1869 in rural Nebraska.
Mr. Tarantino’s hairdresser said he wanted to man up at a time when he fears knives will catch a tidal wave of popularity and become the new favorite toy of tradition-minded murders who do not choose to awaken neighbors when they choose to end a life.
Meanwhile, President Obama, who extended a White House invitation when he heard the dude’s name was Mohammed, withdrew the invite when he heard Mohammed had been gunned down. “We have enough lifeless bodies in this administration,” he said, “although another Mohammed always is welcome.”
