Online Punch

The internet was just born and already it has 6 billion websites, one for every person on Earth today. Human beings are obsessed with writing and even more obsessed with Paris Hilton, the number one search on the internet. Lets get to know a little about our modern day Aphrodite aka Venus, the Goddess of Love, Beauty and Sex worshipped by the Greek and Roman people 4 thousand years ago. Paris Hilton proves once again that sex sells both hamburgers and religion.

The Greek Goddess Aphrodite Festival is called the Aphrodisiac, which was celebrated all over Greece especially in Athens and Corinth. Christina Onassis was the heiress of Aristotle Onassis the Greek shipping billionaire. We are talking real money here. Christina was Aristotle’s only living child, a real heiress, like Jennifer Gates, 9, and Phoebe Gates, 3, the two daughters of the world’s richest man, send me the Bill Gates, at $51 billion dollars and counting. Bill and Melinda French of Dallas Texas have given so much money to charity that they have completely eradicated poverty in Africa. Paris Hilton, if she is lucky enough to make it into her grandfather’s will will be lucky to inherit one million dollars. The One with the money, Paris’ great grandfather Conrad Hilton, (whose son Nicky was the first husband of Elizabeth Taylor), left the grand total of nothing to his 4 children. He married his third wife at 87 and then left his entire fortune to the Catholic Church. Paris’ grandfather Barron Hilton went to court to contest the will and he won, becoming the first person ever to defeat the Vatican in court, walking away with a few hundred million. He has 8 kids. They have kids. Paris’ slice of the pie could be $200,000, walking around money for the Sultan of Brunei, whose oil fields America is now spending its blood to protect. That is hot - not.

Being an heiress is normally a mirage, as Christina Onassis can testify to. Have you ever noticed how many pop icons cash in on Jesus’ story right in their names? It’s like people’s minds are like search engines responding either positively or negatively to certain keywords like Paris Hilton. Madonna, the Virgin Mary, Christ Ina Aguilera, Britney Spears, I have a pain in my side, said Jesus. Is that a spear in my ribcage or are you just happy to see me? Jesus Christ was a Jewish Rabbi painted by the Greek New Testament writers with the Godlike qualities of the Greek Goddess Eurynome and Bellerophon and his flying horse Pegasus and several other Greek deities.

Spider’s Big Catch
(From the book Spider’s Big Catch)
Gary E. Anderson
www.abciowa.com

When I was in college, Spider McGee, Charlie Fox, and I loved to fish off the log boom in the river near my house on summer afternoons. We’d sit and talk about life, drink hot chocolate, and occasionally catch a fish or two. But one day, Spider yelled, “Hey, I got something, and it feels big!”

Catching any fishof any sizewas always a surprise, but hooking something big was reason for genuine excitement. As Spider began to reel, his pole bent almost in half.

“This thing is a monster,” he said, the drag on his reel screaming.

After twenty minutes or so, he’d gotten it close enough to the boom to get a glimpse of his catch. It was a snapping turtle.

“Ah, man, that’s too bad,” said Charlie. “I thought maybe you had Old Granddad there, for a second. Cut the line and let him go.”

“Are you crazy?” said Spider. “That lure was given to my dad by his grandfather. It was hand-carved in Norwayand he doesn’t even know I borrowed it! I gotta get it back.”

“Well, how’re you gonna do that?” I askedand was soon sorry I had.

“I’ll just bring him up to the edge of the boom, and you guys reach out and grab it,” Spider said calmly.

Now, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.

I said, “No, no, noyou bring him to the edge of the boom, and then I’ll try to pry the lure loose with a stick.”

“OK, that’ll work,” said Spider.

As Spider struggled to bring the turtle close to the edge of the boom, Charlie handed me a long stick. I reached out, and the turtle’s jaws instantly clamped down on the stick. I lifted him out of the water, and we headed toward the bank.

Once on shore, we set the angry turtle on the ground, but he refused to let go of the stick, the lure still dangling from the corner of his mouth. I reached out with my tennis shoe to nudge him in the back, and instantly learned several interesting things about snapping turtles. First, they’re not as slow as you might think, second, they’re very agile, and third, they’re well-named.

In a heartbeat, the turtle’s neck shot out, reached completely behind him, and bit through the end of my sneaker. Then, spitting out rubber and nylon, he turned and looked at us menacingly.

“OK, we need a new plan,” said Spider.

“And a new pair of shoes,” I added, looking down at my big toe, which was now plainly visible through the hole in my shoe.

“You hold his head down with the stick, and I’ll reach out and grab the lure,” Spider said.

It was an insane plan, but it was still a step in the right direction, I thought. At least, there wouldn’t be any parts of my anatomy at risk this time. I took the stick and pinned the turtle’s head to the ground while Spider got down on his belly and crept slowly toward the angry, struggling turtle.

It was then I learned even more lessons about snapping turtles. First, their front feet can be used a lot like a pair of hands, and second, snapping turtles are much stronger than you might think.

The turtle reached up and quickly pushed the stick away and quickly raised his headnow leaving him face-to-face with a very surprised Spider McGee.

The big guy screamed, which was probably the best thing to do at the time, since it caused the startled turtle to reach up with a front foot, pop the lure from its mouth, and then it whirl around and head back toward the river.

While all that was going on, the lure leapt through the air and finally came to restfirmly lodged in Spider’s left ear. He danced around in pain, but we finally managed to pin him down and cut the line from the lure. Then we packed up and loaded him into the car.

All the way home, Charlie and I would occasionally look back at poor Spider, sitting like a sad puppy in the back seat and wearing what looked like a giant hand-carved, bug-eyed earring. Then we’d look at each otherand laugh.

All that happened more than 30 years ago, and although Spider didn’t know it at the time, he was a trendsetter. He was the first guy I ever knew to wear an earring, even if he’d had to get his ear pierced by a snapping turtle to do it.

I’m pretty sure they have easier ways of doing that nowadays.

© 2004. Gary E. Anderson. All rights reserved.

About the Author

Gary Anderson is a freelance writer, editor, ghostwriter, and manuscript analyst, living on a small Iowa farm. He’s published more than 500 articles and four books. He’s also ghosted a dozen books, edited more than 30 full-length manuscripts, produced seven newsletters, and has done more than 800 manuscript reviews for various publishers around the nation. If you need writing or editing help, visit Gary’s website at www.abciowa.com.