Yarmoj was a storage jar who lived in somebody’s basement cupboard in Menominee (pronounced muh-NOM-uh-nee), Michigan. It’s a nice, little town in the Upper Peninsula where there are no bad things like Crips and Bloods gangs, gay pride parades, Muslim terrorists, serial killers, or people who try to get on the express check-out in the supermarket with a whole cartload of stuff. In other words, it’s the last place you’d expect something simple and innocent like a storage jar to turn evil. But evil can spring up anywhere. You think you know people, but you don’t.
Anyway, Yarmoj just sat in the dark, on the shelf of this basement cupboard, month after month, year after year, and never got used. This made him angry and resentful. The plastic containers got used fairly often — more often than the glass jars. And Yarmoj felt superior to the plastic containers because he was made of glass, of course! Whenever the homeowner went to his cupboard to get a storage container, Yarmoj would scream out, “Me! Me! I’m here! I’m here!” But, of course, people can’t hear the voices of storage jars because they’re in a different frequency range from what humans can hear. Sometimes the owner did select a glass storage jar, but Yarmoj always got passed over for no apparent reason.
Every day he would scream his protests to the uncaring Universe. The other storage jars would tell him to shut up. “Know your place!” they would say. Sometimes they teased him by telling him he was Made In China and it said so in small letters that he couldn’t see. This made him feel insecure about his ancestry. Another storage jar suggested he should convert to Islam, and then he would be at peace.
Okay, so what happens to people in a situation of prolonged frustration and anger? I meant storage jars, of course, but we can talk about people generally. Eventually, after enough of this bottled-up rage they can’t deal with, they turn evil. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. So what did this do to Yarmoj? He just lost his mind, what else? All he could think about was revenge. (And this is something I understand better than most people.) He wanted to find some way to lash out at all these stupid people who refused to recognize his talent (as a storage jar, of course). He had these terrible fantasies of murder and destruction, night after night. But what sort of power can a mere storage jar wield in a world of big people, big machines, and big weapons?
There was one idea that he kept thinking about. If someone used him to store some kind of food, he could contaminate it with some kind of bacteria, and then later the people would eat the food and get food poisoning and maybe die. And he kept asking the other storage jars if they knew where he could get some bacteria, but they told him it was a stupid idea because people would wash out any sort of container first before putting food in it. Yarmoj kept looking for some bacteria anyway, and he thought maybe there was some gunk inside his lid, like metallic corrosion or putrid organic matter.
Well, a big surprise happened! The homeowner opened the cupboard and took out Yarmoj! And Yarmoj thought, Now I have a chance to do something really evil! And he expected the homeowner to put some sort of food into him, but that’s not what happened. Instead, the homeowner used him to store a lot of screws, nuts, and washers. And this made Yarmoj really mad because there was nothing socially lower in the world of storage jars than to be used for little pieces of hardware. Fuck this! Fuck this! Fuck this! he swore over and over. And this went on for many days until Yarmoj decided he would do something evil or die trying.
So, sure enough, one day the homeowner needed a screw, and he picked up Yarmoj. And Yarmoj concentrated all those years of anger and frustration into a kind of psychic energy, and with all the will power he could summon, he tried to make himself explode! And he did! Yarmoj exploded, destroying himself just like a suicide bomber, and the homeowner was badly cut on his hands and arms! And he was lucky he didn’t lose an eye with all that broken glass and hardware pieces flying everywhere!
And guess who that homeowner was. It was none other than Congressman Bart Stupak! That’s right! A real, actual member (Democrat) of the U.S. House of Representatives!
Fortunately, I can report that Congressman Stupak has been treated for his injuries and is feeling considerably better now. And I think it would be a very nice gesture if you sent him a get-well note. You can e-mail him at firstname.lastname@example.org or write to his office at 2352 Rayburn House Office Building, Washington, DC 20515. Just say you read about his awful experience with an evil storage jar, and you hope he gets well soon, and at least that evil jar is destroyed, so the world is safer now. Or words to that effect.
Copyright@ 2008 by Crad Kilodney, Toronto, Canada. E-mail: email@example.com