This Modern Writer: The New World Order Designed and Distributed the Fish Flu Because They Love Us By Christopher Forsley

Now that economists, sociologists, conspiracy theorists, scientists and my Aunt all agree that the New World Order—with some help from Oprah Winfrey and the McDonald’s Corporation—designed and distributed the Swine Flu, we can discuss their motive.

The economists believe the leaders of the New World Order want to make money from the vaccine.  The sociologists say they want to correct the world’s overpopulation.    The conspiracy theorists are sure they’re using it to institute Martial Law.  The scientists think they’re just experimenting.  And my Aunt is convinced that the Swine Flu is a personal attack against her because she quit drinking.  She says for the past three decades the leaders of the New World Order have been relying on her contribution in alcohol taxes to pay for their yearly TeeVee upgrades.

But they’re all wrong, especially my Aunt. The leaders of the New World Order don’t have TeeVees. They’re too smart to sabotage themselves with their own brainwashing, propaganda-generating invention.  They did designed and distributed the Swine Flu, but not for any of the reasons the economists, sociologists, conspiracy theorists, scientists, and my Aunt give.  They designed and distributed the Swine Flu to replace the Bird Flu, just as they had designed and distributed the Bird Flu to replace the Fish Flu.  And the New World Order designed and distributed the Fish Flu because they love us.

Sure they’ve fucked us a few times.  The nuclear bombs dropped on the civilian populations of Japan, the white phosphorous sprayed on the Palestinians, the millions of rounds of depleted uranium fired into Iraq and Afghanistan—the New World Order was behind those and every other major crime against humanity.  But who doesn’t fuck their lovers? Yeah the leaders of the New World Order fucked us, but they had their reasons:

They killed a few hundred-thousand Japanese so the children of the dead would be turned off by bombs and start making cars.  They sprayed white phosphorous on the Palestinians because the movies made by Jews told them to.  They fired depleted uranium into Iraq and Afghanistan to get oil for our cars and heroin for our stars.  And they designed and distributed the Fish Flu because…

…because 40,000 years ago, when a few control-freak cavemen started the club now known as the New World Order, there wasn’t much to do, eat, enjoy, or befriend.  So the members of this club did something about it:  They designed and distributed the Fish Flu and gave us something to do, food to eat, fun to have, and friends to make.  And today people around the globe are, just as that club of cavemen intended, fucking fish, eating fish, catching fish, and making friends with fish.

If you don’t believe me about the fucking, take a boat down the Amazon River and watch the natives.  Look close and you’ll see them swimming with Pink River Dolphins.  Look closer and you’ll see them fucking the Pink River Dolphins.  The Amazonian natives have been fucking the dolphins for thousands of years, ever since they learned that these fish have vaginas like a woman.

But the fucking may soon end because after shooting their load, a native kills the dolphin.  He has to.  The dolphin’s womanlike vagina suffers contraptions and locks the fucking native’s cock and doesn’t release it unless killed.  And now the Pink River Dolphin, after getting fucked for thousands of years, is on the endangered species list.

The natives know they should stop fucking the dolphins.  They want to stop fucking the dolphins.  They love the dolphins.  But they can’t.  The Fish Flu makes them obsess over these beautiful pink fish…and their vaginas.

Everyone has some form of the Fish Flu, and everyone fucks them in one way or another.  But only those with an advanced form of the flu fuck fish in a sexual way.  Most fuck them by depopulating them in other ways.

Those with a minor case of the Fish Flu depopulate them at meal time.  These people not only eat fish, but they enjoy eating fish.  And I’m not talking about some Tuna soaked in Mayo.  I’m talking about Sardines from the can—bones and brains.  I’m talking about raw Salmon and Fried catfish.  If you got the Fish Flu you don’t give a damn if Catfish live off trash. You’ll keep frying them up and gobbling them down even if they add Anthrax and AIDS to their diet.

So many people are in this first stage of the Fish Flu that the practice of eating fish has not only been accepted but has been embraced around the world.  Even those in the mainstream—who are too busy jacking off to the newest American Idiot to read this—are shoving fish down their throats.  Burger King, for fucks sakes, sells a fish sandwich.

And don’t for a second think that Americans are the only ones eating these gilded bastards.  The leaders of the New World Order have made fish a staple of the human diet.  People across the globe are marinating, pickling, smoking, baking, frying, grilling, poaching, and steaming them as you read this.

There are even eating establishments that, believe it or not, specialize in fish.  I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.  And these places are advertised on national television by advertising agencies made up of people severely sick with the Fish Flu.  They write brainwashing slogans like this one for Long John Silvers:  “Today there’s a brand new way…Go fish! Now you got a choice…Go fish!  No matter what you ask us, you’re going to get your wish…Go fish!”

Then there are the medical experts with the Fish Flu who have been publishing phony studies for decades about the health benefits of eating fish.  They have always said that fish gives us protein, but the lies are getting worse in recent years.  More and more studies are coming out on what they call Omega-3 fatty acids.

Even with their sloppy-ass handwriting, the medical experts have convinced people that these fishy acids not only won’t burn holes in our stomachs but that they will actually help us.  They say Omega-3 fatty acids help our blood and nerves and skin and brain and heart and eyes and mood and sex and finances and even our chances of getting into heaven.

The Fish Flu is out of control.  The leaders of the New World Order didn’t want this to happen.  They didn’t know people would go from fucking Bass in the face to fucking Pink River Dolphins onto the endangered species list.  They didn’t know people would go from eating Mayonnaise soaked Tuna fish sandwiches to eating trash consuming Catfish.  Mainstream restaurants specializing in fish, brainwashing advertisements promoting fish, phony medical studies highlighting the health benefits of fish—the New World Order didn’t want this to happen.

They created the Fish Flu because they love us.  They didn’t know people with the Fish Flu would go from catching fish for fun to catching them for profit.  That’s right—people across the globe are catching fish as a profession.  They’re called fishermen.

These fishermen wake up early and, with their unrelenting desire to catch fish overruling their natural desire to sleep, they head to the nearest body of water and wait hours, sometimes days, and they sit through wind, rain, and snow while reading books written by other victims of the Fish Flu—like Richard Brautigan—all in hope of catching a fish, any fish.

And they’ve come up with all sorts of ways to accomplish their goal.  Most use contraptions made of rods, reels, lines, and hooks.  They then attach small pieces of food to their hooks—or even other fish—and accessories like weights, floats, and swivels before casting it out into their chosen body of water, crossing their fingers, and donating their blood to thirsty mosquitoes.

The fisherman will catch something before all his blood is gone, but it’s usually just a boot or, at best, a minnow.  But these fishermen are infected with the Fish Flu.  They don’t give up.  Instead they’ll board a boat, if possible a boat made for fishing called a “fishing boat,” and they’ll head out on the water.

The fishing boats work.  A fisherman will catch all sorts of fish from them—Bluegill, Redfish, Salmon, Trout, Pike, Crappies, Sunfish, Perch, Marlin, Sharks, and Mermaids.  Occasionally a fisherman will even catch Don Knotts.  The fishing boats work so well that fishing has become a lucrative business, and the Fish Flu a lucrative sickness.

Sick fishermen make so much money selling fish to sick fish-eaters that an industry dedicated solely to catching fish formed called “the fishing industry.”  There are even “fishing villages” where entire populations with the Fish Flu devote their lives to catching and harvesting fish.

Not all fishermen catch fish for profit though.  Some catch them for sport.  These fishermen consider catching a fish the same as hitting a homerun or getting a touchdown, and there are even competitions where hundreds of them meet up to drink watery beer and see who can catch the fish with the worst case of diabetes.  If one of them catches an especially obese fish, he’ll get it stuffed and hang it in his basement and then sneak away from his wife’s side at night and jack off to it.

Fishermen are fucked in the head, I know, but they’re nothing compared to those with the most advanced form of the Fish Flu—those who keep fish as pets.  Don’t laugh.  It’s true, and it’s a serious problem.  It’s a problem that causes people from all parts of the world to enjoy the company of fish.  Goldfish, Guppies, Bettas, and the deceivingly titled Angel Fish are some of their best friends.

For information purposes I conducted a random phone survey asking people who their best friend was.  One out of every nine people that didn’t slam the phone down named a fish.  Other common answers included their mothers and Justin Bieber.  When I asked how they had made friends with Bieber, they said on Facebook.  I then said, LOL, and they said, STFU.

People who make friends with fish spend thousands of dollars on aquariums and cleaning supplies.  Their aquariums are usually made of glass and come in many sizes and shapes.  Some have filtering and lighting systems.  Others have televisions and toasters.  But they all require lots of maintenance.  Fish shit and other precious bodily fluids must be removed weekly with cleaning agents like lime dissolvers, water conditioners, wipes, and douches.  But those with the Fish Flu don’t mind.  They’d give their fish friends nightly back massages if requested.

I had a friend with the Fish Flu.  One of his fish friends requested a back massage.  It was a Betta fish.  My Fish Flu friend happily obliged.  The Betta fish died as a result.  Word spread.  Now Betta fish are angry.  They puff their cheeks out at humans, and they kill any fish that tries to make a Fish Flu friend.

The Fish Flu wasn’t created to anger Betta fish.  The New World Order designed and distributed it 40,000 years ago because they love us.  It has since affected every culture and continent on this planet we call Earth because it has a circumference equal to God’s cock and his disciples misheard him when he told them to call it planet Girth.  The Fish Flu gave us something to do, food to eat, fun to have, and friends to make.  And we’ve been fucking fish, eating fish, catching fish, and befriending fish since.

When I write, “we,” I’m referring to the human race.  I neither have nor had the Fish Flu.  I didn’t put my cock in the warm, moist mouth of a Carp, and I certainly didn’t thrust it back and forth until every muscle in my body shivered with pleasure.  I didn’t put a beautiful pink piece of smoked Salmon between a bagel with cream cheese, and I certainly didn’t eat it in the shower so I could wash the oils out of my mouth before guiltily kissing my girlfriend goodbye for work.  I didn’t trade my car for a fishing boat, and I certainly didn’t miss every one of the San Francisco Giants World Series games because I was using it to fish Lake Merced.  And I didn’t throw a fish themed graduation party, and I certainly didn’t make a guest list of only fish.

But if I did have the Fish Flu and if I did do those things, then I would make sure I didn’t do them again because they’re wrong.  Kurt Cobain was wrong.  It’s not okay to eat fish even if they don’t have feelings.  Hemingway was wrong.  Anyone can’t be a fisherman in May even with heatstroke.  The Chinese Emperors of the Imperial City were wrong.  Fish don’t make good pets even if you breed them with dogs and call them Pugs. The Ancient Greeks were wrong.  Might does not make right, and rape is wrong even if the victim is a fish.

Socrates agreed with me and was killed for it.  People with the Fish Flu are violent, and their violence has created a problem.  Too many fish are dieing from all the fucking and eating and fishing and massaging.  Soon all the fish will be dead.  There are already 1,173 fish species on the endangered list, and many more will join the list if someone doesn’t stop the Fish Flu.

Not that I would care if every fish died.  The oceans would become pure, pure enough to throw hooks into without having to worry about a fish coming along and trying to pull me under.  I could even take a cruise and enjoy the pleasant blue scenery in peace.  The last time I took a cruise I couldn’t enjoy my surroundings because a pack of Porpoises kept following and antagonizing me with their evil smirks.

The trouble with all the fish dieing is that most humans are victims of the Fish Flu, and if these victims lose access to fish terrible things will happen.  Just look at the vegans.  They all have the Fish Flu, but they force themselves—righteously, in my opinion—to restrain from eating fish.  And what’s happening to them?

They are suffering from withdrawal: Their bodies and minds are failing them.  Take a stroll down San Francisco’s Valencia Street to see for yourself.  There are hundreds of them, all pale, skinny, and shaking.  Their hair is falling out as they insanely rant in support of gearless bicycles and ball sack squeezing jeans.

In extreme cases, a Fish Flu victim who doesn’t eat fish will die, instantly, from a heart attack.  This is caused from a metabolic addiction to the Omega-3 fatty acids found in fish that are supposedly good for you.  They aren’t good for you.  They burn holes in your stomach.  But a person with the Fish Flu has to have these fishy acids flowing through their blood at all times.  If they can’t eat fish at every meal, they have to take capsules filled with fishy oils or else their hearts will shutdown.

So it’s clear, as much as I hate to admit it, that we must sustain the fish supply.  We can’t have all our friends and family with the Fish Flu dropping down dead.  The leaders of the New World Order agree.  They created the Fish Flu because they love us.  They wanted us to fuck fish, not sleep with them like Fredo Corleone.

The New World Order’s first attempt at sustaining the fish population involved spreading lies—lies about fish containing dangerous metals and parasites.  They thought the victims of the Fish Flu would cut back on their fish consumption.  But instead of cutting back, the Fish Flu victims started drinking Kryptonite and eating more fish than ever.  The Kryptonite, they believed, defended against the Man of Steel and the Parasite.

Maybe it did, but that doesn’t matter because the New World Order took a different approach.  They designed and distributed the Bird Flu to replace the Fish Flu.  At first, the Bird Flu was a success.  Birds, with their ability to talk, made better friends than fish.  They also, when cooked with a beer can up the ass, made better meals than fish.  Most victims of the Fish Flu were happy to become victims of the Bird Flu, even the fishermen.

The fishermen became birders and spent their days birding instead of fishing.  Although the equipment and tactics are the same, birding is superior to fishing.  Instead of casting your line into a mass of water and waiting for a fish to bite that may not exist, as a birder you cast your line into the air when and only when a bird is in sight.  If done correctly, the targeted bird will attack the bait and, with a bit of luck, the hook will attach itself to the beak so you can reel your catch in.

The best part of birding is that you can do it anywhere.  Unlike water and the fish that live in it, the sky is everywhere and so are birds.  Birders can be happy even in big cities, because pigeons are both fun and easy to catch.  They come right up to you and will eat anything.  I once saw a birder catch a Pigeon using a copy of the New Yorker.  Like I said, they’ll eat anything, even shit.

But the ambitious birder will want to leave the city and try to catch a bird of prey.  Eagles, Hawks, Falcons, and Owls—these are the birds to catch if you’re looking for a challenge.  To succeed in such a challenge, it’s important to use live bait.  Small birds like Pheasants work best.  If you can’t catch a Pheasant, you have no business trying to catch a bird of prey.

If you can catch a Pheasant and you do want a challenge but you don’t feel comfortable casting a bird to its death, I recommend you try to catch a Vulture.  To catch a Vulture you only need some dead meat.  A cheap steak from your local grocery will do.  Just put the steak on your hook and cast it into the wind.  A Vulture will, if you are a skilled birder, attack the steak and get hooked in the process.  From there, it’s only a matter of reeling it in without allowing the line to break.

Regardless of the kind you catch—a Humming Bird, a Bald Eagle, a Raven, or a British Woman—the options of what to do with your bird are endless.  If you’re hungry, you can cook and eat it.  If you’re lonely, you can cage and befriend it.  If you’re a youngster, you can take it to show-and-tell.  You wonder why Vivian Vixen let Donald Dimwit make-out with her behind the bleachers?  It’s because he brought that freshly caught Blue Jay to show-and-tell last week.

Some birders are Michael Vick fans.  They enter their birds into birdfights.  This consists of plucking all the feathers from a bird and then, after tying it to your line, releasing it in the direction of another birder’s featherless bird.  They will meet in the air, and, at the humiliation of being seen naked, the two birds will claw each other to death.

The leaders of the New World Order were happy.  Most victims of the Fish Flu became victims of the Bird Flu.  The fish populations were maintained, and people still had friends to make, fun to have, and food to eat…but did people have something to do?

Victims of the Fish Flu fuck fish, but victims of the Bird Flu can’t fuck birds.  As the Griswold family proved in the Christmas of 1989, a bird’s insides are too damn dry.  You can’t fuck them.  So the leaders of the New World Order—knowing that the Bird Flu could not succeed without giving people something to do—designed and distributed the Swine Flu to replace the Bird Flu.

Pigs are great for fucking.  They also taste pretty damn good and are fun to hangout with.  But can a victim of the Swine Flu have fun with a pig?  Fish Flu victims have fun fishing.  Bird Flu victims have fun birding.  Can a Swine Flu victim go pigging? Not really.  Those who’ve tried it say dragging a pig through the mud is too much work and not enough fun.

So what is the New World Order to do?  They love us, and they want to give us something to do, food to eat, fun to have, and friends to make.  We’re running out of fish.  We can’t fuck birds.  Pigs are no fun.  So, in my opinion, they only have one option left: they must design and distribute a drug that suppresses our sex drive, appetite, boredom, and loneliness.  The drug will be FDA approved, of course, and doctors can get rich prescribing it, pharmacists can get rich creating it, cops can get rich enforcing it, and the leaders of the New World Order can get rich taxing it.

A brave new world it will be.

Christopher Forsley writes and lives in San Francisco. He contributes to 16th & Mission Comix and his book of satire, Bums of the Bay, was recently published by SEVEN7H TANGENT. Later this year Spark Plug Comics will release his first graphic novel, A Joe Story.

Illustration by Cameron Forsley.