Do not adjust your blogs, ladies and gentlemen. You have my word that this image has not been doctored in any way. In fact, you can read the whole freaky story here. The really sad part of the tale, however, is that they named him "Yoda." Yoda?! You have so many wonderful opportunities to indulge your wit in assigning this rare animal a name and you choose Yoda?!!What about "Dr. Faustus"? What about "Beelzebuffy"? What about "Meowphistophiles," for pity's sake?! I mean, I would have even settled for the predictable "Hellcat" before I'd have agreed to the completely non sequitur Yoda. Some people just have no imagination.
Why is it always so easy for someone who's exceptionally good at something athletic to become a hero? Do they really deserve such complete adoration? If aliens invaded tomorrow, what good would Phelps be in defending us from the attack? What would he do, shame them into retreat by soundly beating them in the 200m? I mean, at least the Greeks chose heroes who could legitimately defend them from the wrath of foreign invaders or the gods, truly heroic men like Hercules, Achilles, Theseus, Perseus, and Odysseus. But whom do we choose? These people.
If these are our champions, then we should probably prepare ourselves for a pretty sound alien beatdown. People are so anxious to indulge in narcissistic hero-worship that they will pledge their undying allegiance to any pan-flashing celebrity who reminds them most of themselves. I think it was Bertolt Brecht who once wrote: "Unhappy is the land that needs a hero." Too true, Mr. Brecht, but I think I would revise that statement to read, "Unhappy is the land that collects heroes like action figures."
