(Jokes. Or hamburgers. Must a guy choose?)

~-~-~-~-~-~

Sacred Cows.

This week, let’s talk about sacred cows – the Americanized definition, that is, not the literal Vedic version that allows cows to do things we humans often take for granted, like roam the streets, not wear pants, and avoid being eaten.

See, cows are literally considered sacred in some countries, like India, Burma, and Texas. In those lands, the bovines can just walk around and do whatever they want, with no consequences and zero repercussions, much like members of the United Nations. But then, some of those “sacred cow” cultures also recognize a deity that looks to me like an elephant with several clutching hands, as if some ancient cosmic Titan had once grafted the Republican Party to the IRS.

According to my research, which I’m very like to do, eventually, as far as you know, the cow is respected in some countries as a symbol of Earth. These cultures consider all living things sacred, but the cow is more. The cow gives and feeds, like threatened politicians in an election year. And cows support life, unlike Hannibal Lector, and Planned Parenthood.

For centuries, the sacred cow has played an integral role in pastoral and migratory cultures such as India, Nepal, and Upstate New York Jews after Labor Day. But at some point in the history of Western Civilization, “sacred cow” came to mean a topic that, for whatever reason(s), is best avoided…it’s probably just wiser to leave it alone, like a scab, or Alec Baldwin.

And one of the dangerous things about writing a humor column is wading into the “sacred cow” shoals. As it turns out, lots of people think some of the same things are funny…say, banana peel-related accidents, or Donald Trump’s gravity-defying hair…but most people also have a seldom-advertised sensitive spot, a “don’t go there” zone about something.

And if you broach the zone, then comes the dreaded, dead-pan, dead-serious, “That’s not funny.”

Could be Cancer. Religion. Pregnancy. Abortion (ex-pregnancy). Obesity (mistaken pregnancy).

“That’s not funny.”

Short people. Tall people. Gay people. Short gay people who identify as tall straight people.

“That’s not funny.”

Blacks. Whites. Black Lives Matter. Blue Lives Matter. The Bee Gees Matter. Anti-Matter Matters.

“Don’t go there.”

Pets. Cellphone addictions. Exploding cellphones. Exploding pets.

“That’s not funny.”

A lawyer and a nun walked into a bar. Two other lawyers passed the bar.

“Okay, that’s funny.”

More and more, it seems, the ultimate “that’s not funny” taboo territory in America is politics. I’ve never in my life seen America as politically polarized as it is today, and I’ve lived through the Nixon administration, the Vietnam War, and several Bee Gees albums.

So, naturally, since attempting to share humorous observations about politics is a very bad idea, allow me to share some humorous observations about politics.

~~-~~-~~-~~-~~-~~-~~

Later tonight, Presidential candidate Hillary “The People’s Uterus” Clinton is flying to Barbra Streisand’s home to hold a fundraiser, her 67th such event this week, and it’s only Wednesday. Several Hollywood A-listers are expected to attend, stand around looking oppressed, and vacuously threaten to leave America if Donald Trump is elected. After the fundraiser, financial experts estimate that The People’s Uterus will have a net worth exceeding the annual export income of South America.

Presidential candidate Donald “Believe Me, It’s Huge” Trump has just announced that he had lunch with Mexico’s President, Enrique Pena Neito, and Trump made Neito pay for it.

Earlier today, The People’s Uterus spoke to a crowd of potential voters in North Carolina, many of whom were not dead. For some reason, she was wearing a crocheted kitchen hot pad.

Presidential candidate Donald “I Love My Kids, However Many There Are” Trump now claims to have proof that The People’s Uterus was born in Kenya and was a background singer for the Bee Gees.

Just now, The People’s Uterus is actually resurrecting the antique news story that Donald Trump once questioned Barack Obama’s birth certificate. In the interest of being non-partisan, we should also point out that once, in grade school, Donald Trump made a pootie sound with his armpit.

~~-~~-~~-~~-~~-~~-~~

Editor’s Note: On behalf of your cows, we apologize for the humor columnist.

He can’t help himself.