The Supreme Jester speaks: Is your Wilma too small? Has your phallus been fed to the fish? Penis enlargement patch; increase your pants size by three! Take Wilma home for the evening. Need a diploma? Rolf sends you free software coupons! Thank you for your loan request. Why be an average guy any longer?

Dear Steven,

We got your message about poetry and the military. It's not really all that complicated.

A good poem is a cloud of quantum gas. It does not exist until a consciousness pays attention to it. When a mind beholds the quantum cloud of words, the good poem freezes. It becomes an object unique for the observer. A good poem is a quantum blessing that blends with the energy of the beholder; it is never the same. It changes with each reader and with each reading. The quantum mind cannot be grasped by the absolute.

The authoritative, the commanding, the rigid, the fighting mind hates that which cannot be controlled, or confined, or categorized. That which cannot be made clearly accountable is suspect. Poets are very dangerous. They do not speak clearly. They cannot be trusted to storm the machine guns when the command is given. Their unsure nature can spread like a virus to young insecure troops. A battle can be lost by the presence of a single good poet.

Remember Steven, life is impossible. You are a consciousness, a witness to the impossible. You cannot possibly exist, and yet there you are. Put your middle finger down, boy. Pick up your pen.