Blowing up cows and stealing the hookers' rubbers

Sometimes you shouldn't read below the fold.

In the high Colorado Rockies a bunch of cows sought winter shelter in a cabin and froze to death. Their frosted corpses are worrying the game wardens who are thinking of  converting them to pink slime via dynamite or C4 or something. It's a big controversy. Fer krissake.  Since they're still frozen, why not get local radio to announce "Free beef; first-come, first served; don't forget your rechargeable recipro saws."

In New York the guardians of our morals have been confiscating the working girls' condom inventory. It's evidence, don't you know, that they intended to profit by  violating  the Seventh Commandment as it is interpreted by the pure souls in Albany and Gracie Mansion. (if you dare utter "Huh? Spitzer? Weiner?," you are a cynical anti-government sorehead and should lose your free-speech rights.)  The hooker-rubber controversy is costing millions, generating ill-will among the joy-for-pay set,  and stimulating the AIDS contagion. How about a moratorium, say for ten years, on all government cervix oversight? If it creates a hole lot of trouble we can always return to a program of sex-by-official-permit only. (Yes, whoredom can be a sleazy empire, just like New York politics.  If that's important to you, you should, in fairness, agitate to outlaw both.)

And don't even get me started about a few million the feds spent on a top-to-bottom study of gay men's penis sizes.

Maybe the Victorian-era British Colonial Ministry had the long and the short of it. Perhaps some countries are not ready for self-government.