The clarion call of service

Do you hear that? Do you smell it? That's the call of service! Serve your nation! America needs you, yogic flyers!

Isn't this a doozy? The New York Times took money from these people to run an ad in its Thursday edition. When the chips are down, and we're just lucky to be alive, we should consider thanking the yogic flyers of the Iowa area for conferring all that invulnerability on us. If only they had gotten their act together back in 2001; or in Madrid; or in Darfur.

A yogic flyer, by the way, is a devotee of transcendental meditation who believes that all of your fucking om powers can be channeled into levitation if... you... eat... a bunch of pori bread. I guess. Or some shit. Long story short, it's just more imaginary bunkus that people waste their time on when they could be busying themselves with recycling or tightening their bathroom fixtures, so they don't waste so much water. You know, something that doesn't involve unicorns and leprechauns making me a poached egg while the yeti reads the opening night NHL box scores to me wearing a pair of bifocals.

I'll ask it again -- is the material world so bereft of wonder that people need to curl up into lotus position and not experience the magic of John Mayer's music, or the haunting cry of a 31-year-old man?