Straining the Proof from the Pudding
I’m out to distill the proof in the pudding, strain it into a pure substance, package it in one-ounce amber-colored vials and market it. Set the world free and make a bundle.
I know, it sounds a little like snake oil, but think of the good that will come of it once the pudding had been proven, think of all the anxiety that’s been generated by unproven pudding, the wars that have been fought, the children who’ve been abandoned, the genocide and fixed trials and hangings. Think of the street gangs, the stock market, the sex trade and the arsonists who roam the streets of America. What’s the harm in a little sleight-of-hand in a one-ounce amber vial if all this can be ended?
I’m not out to get famous. Once I’ve made my bundle I’ll retire to a South Sea island and kick back in a hammock while a beautiful brown-skinned woman fans the flies away and I ponder my sudden greatness.