The Headless Chicken Rises, And Falls, Again.

Sometimes life's little coincidences are the funniest things. Take Mike the Headless Chicken, for example. Born in 1945, Mike lead a tranquil life on a Colorado farm for some six months before his luck was capped, so to speak. Our subject, a Wyandotte rooster, lived for another 18 months after its head had been cut off, strutting its stuff as a sideshow freak of nature after that fateful day.

Some of you, no doubt, are beginning to see the dark trail of humor in front of us.

First, the name of our poor cluck may remind you of a certain bygone Emperor. Rest assured that this is purely coincidence, but certainly not contrived. A Headless Chicken, of course, is akin to what he left behind. Strutting and crowing, by all appearances staying balanced, but moving in no particular direction as the disbelievers watch carefully for signs of a hoax.

So, too, are the Viceroys Cook and Gerst, are now balancing on the line, following appropriations directions where they can, and tweaking budgets where it suits them. Without further guidance they are shuffling funds to keep the shuttle flying and to focus on the fraudulent ARES-1X sham test...getting closer to the point of letting its schedule dictate Hubble repair launch operations. Unable to get her most important task to the finish line, the Snow Princess is without portfolio and returning to her palace, her magic ineffective in healing our modern day chicken's ills.

In the end, our topless friend, Mike THC, succumbed to a fit of choking when its owners failed to clean his windpipe. This coincidence, which is playing out before our very eyes, is not too funny after all.