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we were watching the motorcade pass through the city square. past the book depository. you couldn't hear anything. his head exploded. his head simply exploded. his head simply just exploded. there's no getting around it, his head exploded. it exploded good. it just exploded. no rhyme or reason, it just exploded. into a million fragments, exploded on the car, exploded on his wife, exploded on the fans. yes, this is the truth that which i bore withness with my own very two eyes. john f kennedy's head exploded. just like that, bam, exploded. in fact, you would be hard pressed to argue that it didn't explode. what would you say? it certainly didn't melt, and it definitely didn't do "nothing". something definitely happened, at least, i think we can all agree. i remember it clear as day. go watch the zapruder film, it explodes there too. are these two different incidents? maybe, but that would be one hell of a coincidence; john f kennedys head exploding twice? i'm not convinced, not so sure that passes the ol' "sniff test". even at my old age, i have my wits about me. i can see it now, the pink mist like rain spewing from the back of his cadillac. his wife, trying to shove his Godforsaken neoliberal shit-for-brains back into his blown out skull, the yellow tint over the day, the film grain over everything. i can still hear the silence of nothing going on at all. yep, i can see it now, clear as day. those were the good old days, things used to be so much better. remember minstrel shows? eh nevermind, my point is: we used to laugh at each other, we used to have fun. i mean, i guess SOME people cried over kennedy's brains making a terminal b-line to poundtown, looking like he gave a shotgun the blowie of it's life. that reminds me, i saw something online a few years ago: apparently dolphins ejaculate hard. i mean, really hard, like 75 mph. i don't know where i saw that, but i guess i picture former president john f kennedy being an over-achiever and trying to catch that dolphin's nut, not knowing facts like this. this sort of stuff can save your life, in the technological age there's not really any excuse for ignorance. different times i guess. maybe that's why his head exploded? anyway, yeah we used to just have fun... laugh a little... kick back... they used to let you smoke on airplanes. whatever happened to that? i don't know whether to blame the liberals or conservatives on that one, i wasn't alive yet. but i can imagine it, i can see it now. i'm leaned back, a nice parliament in my mouth, i flip the lighter and light the wick. a sudden rush of flame penetrates the entire fusilague, women and children scream before it's instantly shut out, all the oxygen is gone. they can't scream, no one can. you just hear gurgling. it's quiet, sans the sound of the engine, but even that's having a hard time keeping up. everything is fried. i'm charred black. i am the minstrel. everyone looks down and starts laughing. we used to laugh at each others differences, now everyone is the minstrel. serves us right for what we did to MLK. we laugh and laugh as the plane descends more and more. what a trip! i put my molchy husks in the air, i try to say "weeee!" but i think i'm still on fire. maybe not if there's no oxygen? let's just say i'm still on fire. i can't really feel anything anymore, so i'd better not risk it; eh, once we're back on the ground we can sort this stuff out. the plane lands at a speed of 500 knots, straight down. jet fuel ignites, but what's that matter now? i fly forward, 15g lauches my body into the seat of the toddler infront of me. she isn't crying anymore. my head explodes into a million pieces, pink mist envelopes everything. i'm still conscious, by a stroke of luck, as i start flying. well, i was flying before. i'm continuing flying. jagged metal is all around, but as previously stated, i no longer feel, so who cares? did i state that? i don't remember. i can't feel at this point. eventually, i crash through the cockpit window. this was the days before 9/11, they pretty much always left the door open, the patriot act and all that shit really fucked everything up. i hit the dirt, my body flattens and i'm turned to ash by the flame. status: terminal, late for arrival. early for departure? pick whichever is wittier. i guess i can see why they'd ban it now.