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A Note To Mr. Ratt
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Riviera Ratt, a truly disturbed young man from lower Yakkamattocuck, New
Jersey, has sent in the following questions:
"How can you tell if a hole is benign or if it will beat the living sponsons
out of you?"
It's well-known to science that as recirculating hydraulics absorb more and
more matter from their surroundings, their cores grow denser and denser...and
can potentially become many thousands of times more dense than the stuff of
neutron stars, for example. As matter accelerates towards the center of a
hydraulic it becomes infinitely compressed...hence that all-to-familiar
heaviness in the pit of the stomach as one draws too near. A genuinely
malevolent hydraulic, of the kind we're particularly interested in avoiding
altogether, will exert such a strong gravitational pull on nearby space that
light will completely fail to escape its clutches. As you're paddling
towards the hole, you might notice a sort of void ahead. This is due to the
fact that light is being absorbed into the hydraulic so quickly that not so
much as a single photon escapes.
Some recirculating hydraulics actually compress space to the point where they
form "wormholes", or actual warps in the fabric of reality which allow unwary
boaters to enter the hole at point A and emerge from the hole at point B.
Point B is often far, far downriver from point A, as has been often verified
by witnesses from shore. Miscellaneous debris such as boats, paddles, and
sunglasses may actually emerge on other planets...for all we know.
"Boats seem to be getting shorter and shorter. Pray tell, oh Oracle, what is
the lower limit, and when will it be reached?"
It's not that boats per se are getting shorter, but that boaters themselves
are getting shorter. You see, Darwin's treatises show that species tend to
discard useless appendages and organs across generations. In the human body
the exaples are legion: the appendix, the little piggie that went
wee-wee-wee all the way home, the earlobe, and so forth. Now, the human leg
is damn nearly a useless appendage to a kayaker, and since most paddlers can
be accurately described as gill-bearing mutants, it's not surprising to
observe the gradual atrophying of the lower limbs. Boat manufacturers have
been quick to capitalize on this new physiology, and such companies as
Perception have actually manufactured boats (i.e., the Whip-It) so heinously
uncomfortable to the lower body of the gene-pure human, that only those
completely devoid of feet are capable of making use of these boats.
"Finally, how do they do the scoring for rodeo events? What formula do they
use?"
Judges of rodeo events do not use formula...nor are they allowed to
breast-feed. In most cases these poor vicitims of our culture soak up any
available half-noxious mash of soured corn and charcoal-foul water through
their pores...much like sponges. This harsh diet is particularly damaging to
the brain cells, which become softer and more pliable with each passing year.
As to the scoring of rodeo events, this is a simple matter. Judges award one
point to a contestant for each trick the judges are unable to perform
themselves. This is why getting blown out of a hole, failing to execute an
eskimo roll, and swimming scores not a single point...the sequence of moves
is well within the capability of every judge present. This also explains the
wild variety of scoring for the same ride by the same contestant. After the
scores are tallied, the panel then awards a random number of points based on
the state of the panel's digestion, the amount of rainfall in the last 35
hours, and the winner of the Preakness stakes.
Er...my apologies to anyone reading this who might be judging the 1997 Ocoee
Rodeo. Despite any rumours you might have heard, I do not paddle a red
Acrobat 270. My boat of choice is a plaid RPM, with orange and purple
stripes.
Thanks for your interest, Mr. Ratt, and I hope that these brief paragraphs
have cleared up any misconceptions you might have had.
Ed
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