The Running of the Fools

Let me make one thing perfectly clear from the start, lest we misunderstand each other. My reference to “fools” in the title of this blog is not a word aimed to speak ill of the dead. It applies rather to the THOUSANDS over the years who have participated in the event I am about to describe.

My introduction to Spain’s Running of the Bulls came from Ernest Hemingway’s novel The Sun Also Rises. It sounded insane in the book, and it WAS insane by all accounts when I witnessed the visuals of the event.

Here’s the gist of this incredibly idiotic event. Tough, macho men stay up all night drinking (you’d HAVE to be plastered to want to do this) and then take part in this ritual the following morning.

People run down the half mile course of city streets in Pamplona, Spain–with angry bulls chasing closely behind.

No thanks. I’d rather watch Barney Frank talk about Wall Street or Nancy Pelosi about waterboarding and the CIA. I’d rather vote for liberals, actually, before doing this.

Well, one man unfortunately became the first fatality in 14 years, bringing the total of deaths from the event to 15 (they began keep that record in 1911).

Is it mean to call people who participate in this foolish? I don’t think it is. Just an observation.

I have a better idea.

Let’s hold a traditional event where we release common sense down the street, have millions of people chase after it, and hope to God they catch it before it’s too late.