The Snowflake Chronicles

The Latest Darwin Award Newsletter Arrived in my E-mail Box

6 Ala 163 B.E. - Wednesday, March 07, 2007

I’m a sexagenarian, which only means that I’m 60 years old. I didn’t realize this until I read the latest Darwin Awards Newsletter. There was story in it about another sexagenarian in Germany, who was three years older then me. It seems the man was having Mole problems, so he decided the best way to get rid of the little critter was to put metal rods into the ground and connect them to a high-voltage power line and the zap the ground with electricity. The police found him laying in his front yard. They had to trip the breaker to get to the body. It’s presumed that the Mole is no longer a problem. They won’t know the precise date of the man’s demise until the electric bill arrives. This sounds a little strange, but the Darwin Newsletter staff confirmed the truth of the incident.

The Darwin award supposedly goes to people, who take themselves out of the gene pool in odd, weird or bazaar ways before passing their genetic code to the next generation. OK the newsletter is a bit morbid and you’d think a sexagenarian would have matured beyond this type of thing by now, well I haven’t. At my age, a person has to admit that some of her reading material is just plain weird. My brother actually started me following the Darwin Awards. At the time he introduced me to them, I was a lot younger. I’ve kept up with the awards through the online newsletter and the stories of the strange ways individual humans find to remove themselves from the gene pool.

I think the thing I find most interesting about the Darwin newsletter is that most of the stories results from people violating the law of common sense. Other stories result from people not putting their brain online before doing something dangerous. I have to admit that I haven’t always, and sometimes still don’t, put my “brain in gear” (that was my Grandmother’s term for the phenomena) before doing something stupid. Actually, I’m lucky I survived to become a sexagenarian. My theory on my personal survival is simple … I have a guardian angel. Either that or my destiny required that I survive until I accomplish something specific.