“It’s not that I’m afraid to die. I just don’t want to be
    there when it happens.”

    — Woody Allen

There’s something I’ve got to tell you folks. It’s nothin’
really. No biggie. I simply want to remind you of the fact that you are
going to die.

Ah, excuse me?

You heard me. I’m simply telling you that the one unalterable
fact of your life is that someday (and probably sooner than you think)
you simply aren’t gonna be here anymore. That’s right. You’re just going
to be gone off the face of the earth and everything is going to go on
without you.

Now, if you don’t mind, I just want to run it by you one more time,
because, like the New Agers say, you gotta “get it.” So, here we go:
ah-one, ah-two, ah-threeeeeee. …


Are you catching on a little bit?


See, we all spend tons of energy avoiding that one ugly fact. Oh, we
may joke about it and all that, but we never really stop to look
at it. We’re too busy. But my contention is that all the other stuff —
the stuff that you go through all your little daily dramas about …
your stupid job, the fact that you defrauded the IRS or that you hate
your wife … that’s nothing. That’s irrelevant.

No, there is one and only one problem that confronts each and every
one of us — and that is the simple and terrible truth that … we
want to live … and yet we must die.

But instead of looking at that fact, we try and escape it. I’m not
just talking about movies or sports or video games. I’m talking about
the escape of politics, the escape of religion, the escape of
relationships, the escape of having ideas … opinions about things. The
escape of talking and arguing endlessly on and on and on about

That’s what we do day in and day out; we make all this noise so that
we don’t have to look. The problem is — it’ll sneak up on you. Like at
3:00 in the morning, when you wake up in a cold sweat. Yeah, you know
that one, don’t you?

Or perhaps you’re in a crowd of people having a swell time, when all
of a sudden, for no reason, you feel utterly alone. Completely cut off
from everyone else, and suddenly the old Fear Demon has a hold of your

Horrible, isn’t it?

The reason that stuff happens is simple. You’ve been avoiding the
fact that you are all alone. Totally alone. You can’t actually
relate to anybody. Not really. Because you’re locked inside this sack of
skin … inside this bag of memories and opinions and ideas. You can’t
escape it. There’s always a wall there between you and everything else.
And that wall, that terrible black hole, is one thing and one thing
only. Don’t let the shrink fool you by calling it an anxiety attack.
That’s a bunch of crap. No, that bottomless pit that you don’t want to
look into — that’s death, baby.

Wake up, jerks! Do you realize how great the chances of your death
are right this very second? There are a million, zillion ways you
can go. Let’s just take diseases for starters?

Cancer. That’s the big daddy these days, right? It gets one out of
every four people on the planet — at least that’s what the “experts”

Then you’ve got your basic heart attack. Tons of people wipe from
those every day. AIDS; maybe it’s not in the news anymore, but it’s
still knocking ’em off like flies.

Don’t like that one? How bout a nice blood clot in the old brainpan?
Or maybe a coronary occlusion? I could go on.

In fact, I think I will.

Ah, let’s see, you’ve got TB, Alzheimer’s disease, blood poisoning,
multiple sclerosis, Parkinson’s disease, diabetes, emphysema, leukemia,
rheumatic fever, anorexia, cirrhosis of the liver, rickets, pneumonia
(isn’t this fun?), Marfan’s Syndrome, neurofibromatosis, cystic
firbosis, sickle cell anemia, meningloma, medulloblastoma, pituatary
tumour, malignant neoplasm, cerebral thrombosis …

Had enough?

I think not. After all, we mustn’t forget our “natural” disasters:
fire, earthquakes, floods, etc. Or our common household accidents such
as drowning, strangulation, poisoning, asphyxiation, and electrocution.
Anyone for a brain concussion from falling in the shower?

Car crashes!

Plane crashes!

Then of course, there are the slightly more unusual (and unpleasant)
occurrences. For example: a maniac could break into your house and
disembowel you. Or … a group of maniacs could beak into your
house and disembowel you. You could be killed by a bomb, run over by a
garbage truck (or a bookmobile), given the wrong operation at Kaiser
Permanente, sacrificed by devil worshippers. …

Well, you get the idea, I’m sure.

What’s the point, you ask? Simple. The point is, EVERY SECOND WE ARE

So — like it or not — we all have to do the Death Dance. But the
trick is to do it while we’re alive — not when we’re lying in
some lousy hospital bed rotting away from cancer.

You see, every day ole Mr. D holds out his hand and asks us to dance
with him. But we turn him down. Ah, sorry … think I’ll just sit
this one out. …

Ah, sorry. No dice, friends. You gotta do the dance. Why? Because
if you don’t, he’ll come up behind you just when you’re least expecting
it, and he’ll knock you to your knees. Oh yeah, he’ll make you humble
real quick.

So, the choice is yours. You can sit it out, or you can get out there
on the floor. I say, get out there and shake it! Get crazy! Get nuts! Be
wild, be awkward, be dumb, be romantic. Be silly, be timid, be great, be
terrible, be schmaltzy — I don’t care. Make a bloody fool of yourself
if you feel like it. Get out there like Brando did in “Last Tango.” Pull
your pants down and bare your buttocks at the world. Wiggle that baby in
their faces!

I don’t care what you do. Just do it.

Do the dance. …

It’s easy, really. Sometimes it’ll be a fast one; other times it’ll
be a waltz. Sometimes you’ll lead, sometimes he’ll lead. But soon you’ll
find you can adapt to all of it. And after awhile, you’ll see that
you’re actually getting graceful. After that, well — it’s kinda nice.
Yeah, even kinda sweet.

Even if it’s awkward in the beginning, I recommend you give it a
shot. Because the deal is, this is one dance you ain’t allowed to
sit out.

Think about it, darlin’.

The Tongue is back! That’s right kiddies! The (brand new) Tongue
will be up and running before you
can say “S.L. Goldman is my hero!” Yes, friends and neighbors, the worst
nightmare of all Pod People, liberals, New Agers, Bible Babblers, and
other assorted idiots, dingbats and failures is about to become (gulp)
reality! Complete with freshly penned and severely twisted columns by
Stu, an official anti-brainwashing and deprogramming site, a brand new
Stu cartoon strip (“PhobiaMan: The Man Totally Crippled By

Fear And

“), a new and expanded
containing a massive selection of down ‘n’ dirty books on spying,
hacking (and all sorts of other cool things to help you procure dirt on
your friends and enemies — plus countless new and clever ways to take
your money. Yes, gang — it’s all coming on (pick your own theme
music)… the Tongue.

Stay tuned, swine.

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