"Coming Out"

[H2Oz]

I owe EVERYTHING to paddlefishing -- and I truly believe that it is the greatest sport ever invented -- but I can no longer continue to post here without being TOTALLY truthful. I KNOW that there are many others like me on this forum, and I hope that my honesty will encourage them to emerge from the shadows and publicly admit what they have long been told was some "shameful secret".

And so, admittedly with some trepidation at the social consequences of such an announcement, I am publicly stating right here and now that I have totally and wholeheartedly embraced Floridatheism. Mind you, I still believe in the possibility of a Supreme Being. But I just can't pretend to believe in "Florida" anymore.

We Floridatheists are enlightened individuals who have come to the realization that Florida doesn't actually exist; that we are all simply inmates in a gigantic insane asylum (which is actually located inside a huge, cockroach-infested federal penitentiary in Death Valley where barely sub-lethal amounts of humidity are pumped in 24 hours a day).

Occasionally, an inmate attempts to "escape" through elaborate fantasies -- like, say, paddling a fishing kayak or canoe over cool, clear waters on a sunny day. When this occurs, rather than use powerful (and expensive) psychotropic drugs to control them, huge artificial sound and light displays are activated to convince them that they are in danger from "thunderstorms", at which time they voluntarily return to their cells. Further fantasies then develop, like "casting", in which tightly folded paper notes become "lures" and unraveled mattress thread becomes "line" and the highly buffed asylum floors become "flats".

Inmates are allowed to have certain personal items in their cells, as long as they are incapable of being turned into weapons. Thus, inmates spend an inordinate amount of time fashioning "shanks" made from pool noodles. Over time, long-term inmates are even allowed to have such items as rope; but, rather than attempting to hang themselves (or strangle the guards), they are encouraged to develop even more elaborate fantasies, and thus actually begin to fashion totally fictitious but utterly harmless items such as "anchor trolleys" and "leashes".

All meals are served from individual coolers, with incredibly long double-ended spatulas. 24 hours a day, loudspeakers in every cell broadcast mainstream 80's rock music, but with subtly altered lyrics, such as "You Can Space Out Anytime You Want, But You Can Never Leave". If an inmate does attempt to escape, he is easily spotted in his uniform: a highly-padded, brightly-colored and totally sleeveless straitjacket; floppy wide-brimmed hat; oysterproof footwear; blue alien goggles; and a pair of bright orange plastic visegrips.

Gone are the days of organized escape attempts by multiple individuals. When the authorities begin to sense rising tension levels, they simply distribute leaflets announcing a "tournament" or "rigging seminar", where large numbers of would-be escapees can be rounded up at a single location.

Group mind control is largely exercised by distribution of the asylum's newsletter (known as "The Forum"), where inmates are encouraged to use aliases ("screennames") like Snakehead Pliskin or Andy Dufresne, even though everyone knows exactly who they are. Gang membership is actively encouraged, as it prevents large-scale, unified uprisings. Occasional fights break out between STG's (security threat groups) such as the Pedal Pushing Punks and the Armstrong Eggbeaters, but they are usually quickly quelled by the guards (known in modern prison/asylum parlance as "moderators").

The most hardened (i.e., most sane) long-term inmates eventually develop a seething hatred for wannabes, punks and diddlers (whom they derisively refer to as "handburning, gillfingering, jawbreaking, spotjumping, potlicking corksuckers"). Most of these pitiful creatures eventually slink off and voluntarily segregate themselves in huge imaginary echo chambers ("FacePalm", "TweetTwerp", and so on). Such enclaves are generally referred to as "social media" due to the high incidence of social diseases (and, apparently, severe inbreeding) that occur there.

Occasionally, one of these depraved individuals skulks back into General Population ("The Forum"), where they spend manic amounts of time and effort attempting to beg for hopelessly out-of-date GPS coordinates ("spots"), or asking totally psychotic questions like "What's the best way to put 500 subwoofers on my kayak so I can 'share' my favorite 'tunes' in a formerly pristine and quiet natural environment?" or "What's the best color sabiki rig for menhaden?". Eventually, though, they give up and return to TwitFace and join one of the juvenile gangs there that will validate their existence (like the Wake-Blasting Horsepower-Hoes, the Here's-Yet-Another-Photo-of-My-Emo-Girlfriend's-Cat Crew, the Look-At-My-Lunch Loopers, or the OmgLolKthnxbye Droolers). The final step in their total mental devolution occurs when they can no longer even recognize common sounds like the derisive laughter of grown men (let alone irony, satire, sarcasm OR gleefully sadistic chain-pulling).

God, I feel so much better now that this is all out in the open! Maybe tomorrow the warden will stop flicking the light switches on and off and pumping rumbling sounds through the hidden speakers in my cell. And I hope the Gulf of Mexico is as blue as it is in my dreams.

Sincerely,

(Ba-domp-BOMP)

Shecky Hitler, Kayakfishing Comedian

[Brett]

You owe me a new keyboard. Accidentally spit coffee onto mine.

[Manning]

Now here the hell is that "like" button?

[oldmanjoe]

Inmate 1957 say`s thankyou ,I fully understand

[ChrisR]

That's hilarious! You have quite the imagination. I hope you continue to share your thoughts.

[H2Oz]

Gentlemen, I cannot tell you how deeply touched and inspired I am by your reactions to my latest humble offering. Frankly, I was down in the dumps after a long series of rejection letters from other fine publications such as yours.

Just recently, after a drunken bet with a fellow paddlefishing culture-jammer, I was ALMOST published in a certain unnamed prestigious scientific journal. Sadly, after three hours of clickety-clacking away, I could only come up with.......

"The Wide-Brimmed Marsh Rat (Floggus clouserii, a subspecies of Noncom curmudgeonosa) has evolved a unique method of locomotion ideally suited to the salt marshes of the eastern Gulf of Mexico. Sometime after reaching old age, it replaces its legs with a hollow plastic shell that is more resistant to oyster shells, and begins spending most of its time in salt creeks and shallow mangrove-lined bays. It is known to emit its distinctive warning cry ('Clear off, you spotjumping stinkbarge bastages!') if approached too closely....."

...which garnered me only a tersely worded --- and, I might add, downright unappreciative --- rejection letter. If memory serves me correctly, it included prestigious scientific terms like "rolling donut" and "short bus" and such.

While out three hours of my life AND a ten-spot, I nonetheless learned several valuable lessons:

1. The peer-review process for prestigious scientific journals is apparently considerably more stringent than a large number of tumbler-sized peppermint schnapps shooters with a beer back might lead one to believe; and,

2. Neighbors WILL call the local constabulary if you stand out on a dock at night, turn a yachtsman's cap sideways, hug a tall piling like a periscope and bellow, "Tor... pee... do... LOHS!" before slamming down each of the aforementioned libations; and

3. Said constabulary will not be amused by impromptu ceremonies inducting them into the Kriegsmarine, even if you're offering a starting rank of Porkenbahnsturmfeuhrer, and especially if the stated induction requirements are that they "drop trou and chug a few of these".

However, I hope to provide you with more kayakfishing humor in the near future, immediately after my lawy... er, publisher concludes my sanity hea... er, literary negotiations.

[snooker56]

That was good. One point of contention, though. "Hotel California" came out in the 70's, not the 80's. The 80's pretty much sucked for music and it just got worse after that.

[shamus]

Oh oh you said rope not line. A certain Nazi might rear his ugly head.
Very good!