The Running of the Bulls
Or as I like to call it, The Running of the Idiots! Just the other day in Pamplona, Spain, we had our annual gathering of the dumbest people in the World and not surprisingly some of these future garbage men and their stories are starting to surface.
We’ll start with the idiot from San Diego who had a bull tear a gash into his leg while he was running with his new friend. While being interviewed in the hospital he said it was his first and last running of the bulls because “it’s dangerous and you are putting your life at risk.” There must be a future in business for this budding superstar because he is obviously a genius. Please, please tell me this moron didn’t actually have to fly to Spain, run next to a 1 ton bull, have his leg torn open, then have time to reflect on the experience while laying in the hospital to actually come to the conclusion that it’s dangerous because if that’s the case then future America and future World are in trouble.
Now let’s shift to the professional…the Matador. Ah, the bravest of the brave. Want to be a firefighter and run into a burning building to save a stranger? Nope, not brave enough. Want to be a police officer and put your life at risk every day to save a World that probably doesn’t deserve saving? Nope, not brave enough. Want to stand in an arena with a bull and let him run at you? Yes, where do I sign up? Well for one young man he probably should have chosen to be a firefighter. For the first time since the 80’s a Matador was killed by a bull. Not only that, but it also happened on live television. There is another tradition in Spain that says when a Matador is killed, it is customary to not only kill the bull but also the bull’s mother in an effort to end the bloodline in the hopes that this doesn’t happen again. I would actually argue that instead of killing the bull or it’s mother, you should actually kill the mother of the Matador for giving birth to an idiot.
It makes absolutely no sense to me at all that you would kill a bull for following its instinct and charging at the red cape that is being waved in its face, and it makes even less sense to me that you should kill its mother. The fault lies in one place and with one person, and in this case that person is already dead. What happened to this Matador can be summed up in two words – Natural Selection. The moment you step into an arena and get in the way of a charging bull, all bets are off…you deserve whatever fate awaits you. There are people who are in favor of ending the entire tradition of running with the bulls but I am actually a proponent of the opposite, I think we should open it up to more people. Think of the prison costs we could save if we shipped a few hundred convicts out and told them to try to outrun the bulls. Or even better, instead of orange jumpsuits, put them in the arena with red jumpsuits and then sent a few bulls in. How many people would hold up a liquor store if they knew that fate awaited them?
Now don’t view me as completely insensitive, I’m just pretty much almost completely insensitive. It is a little bit sad that this Matador died, he was only 29, he was married, and his wife was cute. It is sad that he died, but only a little sad…I can’t get away from the fact that he knew the dangers, he wanted the fame and therefore was willing to accept the risk…the only problem was that this time the risk won. Instead of getting the fame and fortune, he got a horn through his lung and heart. ..on live tv. This event should be televised on live television across the Country, we need to encourage more of our disjointed youth to want to go participate. Pamplona is a small town, it is just East of that one town and just South of that other town but with more exposure we could build this town up, tourism could be huge. Now granted most of the tourists won’t stay for long but no one wants tourists to stay long, we want them to come for a few days, spend money, then g.t.f.o.
We now have a living witness though, a 23 year old aspiring garbage man from San Diego who thanks to the grace of God is on his way home with not only a huge bandage coving almost his entire leg, but a story. A story of a man, and a bull, and a leisurely jog, and then a sprint, and then an all out run for your life, and then pain, and then confusion, then pain, then blacking out, then a hospital, then a cute nurse, then a mean old nurse, then an unsympathetic doctor, then time to reflect, then a news team with a camera, and then national fame…and what could be better than that? So go home young man, appear on local morning talk shows and tell your story, go hang out a bars and tell your story, go to assisted living facilities and tell your story, but most importantly…tell your story, and get others to go so they can have stories of their own. I will help you by also telling your story, and I will continue to wear my old slightly faded red t-shirt that has a picture of a bull on it, and written under the bull is the name of a town, a small town that we will build up, we will build it up with the help of you and other idiots like you.
Viva la Bulls!